


Katrina & Harry (Books 1-7)

by Childhood_Dreams



Series: Katrina & The Boy Who Lived *Revised* [1]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Book 2: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, F/M, Harry Potter References, Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2019-11-14 21:06:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 103
Words: 414,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18060140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Childhood_Dreams/pseuds/Childhood_Dreams
Summary: Her name is Katrina. No last name, just Katrina or Kat. With no memory of her past before the age of five, Kat lives a miserable existence in the orphanage where she was abandoned. That is, until her 11th birthday when she receives her acceptance letter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Follow alongside Katrina as she discovers clues to her mysterious past and befriends the boy with the lightning bolt scar.Was planning to go through and add pictures as well as revise minor mistakes and figured I might as well make one big compilation while I'm at it. Be advised that these will be basic edits based on a quick review and that a more in depth edit with additional scenes etc will be done after the series is complete! But they will eventually be made in THIS VERSION and this version ONLY so make sure to add this book if you have been enjoying the series!





	1. The Letter

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully y’all will like the story but if it isn’t your thing, please keep it to yourself and don’t ruin the experience for all my other readers, recently had my first batch of negative comments and my story ended up being deleted from fanfic so finally decided to start updating it on here again.

Katrina's POV

"Katrina, you have a visitor." 

I turned my head towards the door as I heard Mrs. Templeton's voice coming up the stairs. 

"Though why anyone in their right mind would want to see you is beyond me." 

I simply ignored her words as I focused on the doorway, eager to see who had come to see me. I never get visitors. Ever. I lowered my head and let my wavy brown hair fall down and create a curtain to hide behind. The door slowly creaked open and two pairs of feet entered the room.

"Hello, Katrina dear."

"Hello" I mumbled with a quick glance to Mrs. Templeton before continuing to stare at the floor.

"Mrs. Templeton, you can leave now." My head shot up at the sudden icy tone in the stranger's voice.

"Wow, I've never heard anyone speak that way to her before!" I exclaimed in surprise. My eyes widened as I took in the strange emerald-green robes the lady was wearing. "Who are you?"

"My name is Professor McGonagall."

"Am I in trouble?" I whispered. 

"Of course not, dear! Whatever for?" 

"I accidentally set the stove on fire while cooking everyone dinner the other night." I felt my face redden with embarrassment. 

"Well no, that is certainly not why I am here. Though that will be something we will have to address once you have arrived."

"Arrived? Arrived where?" My eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Hogwarts of course!"

"What's a Hogwarts?" I tilted my head slightly to the left as I continued to observe the strange lady standing before me. None of her words were making any sense. I pinched my arm. Yup, I'm awake I thought to myself.

"Oh, right, of course. Silly me, I forgot you have no clue what I'm talking about..." I frowned as I noticed her eyes mist over and a distant expression came over her face. I caught the faint words, "no memory..." escape her lips but I wasn't completely sure I'd heard correctly so I pretended not to notice and coughed loudly. She came back with a quick startled shake of the head and stared down at me.

"This letter should help explain." She said curtly as I was handed an envelope.

Ms. Katrina

The Attic

36\. Stratford Lane

Little Whinging, Surrey.

Dear Ms. Katrina,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagal

Deputy Headmistress

I looked up at lady in astonishment. "Is this a joke?" I whispered in fear. I wanted it to be true so badly; it would explain all the weird things that had been going on, but Liza and the other girls here were always finding new ways to play mean tricks on me. 

"No, my dear, it is not." 

"What happens now then...P-P-Professor?" I stammered.

"Why we go and collect your new things, of course! Oh, and dear, when it's just us, please feel free to call me Minerva." She said smiling down at me.

I furrowed my brows again as a name suddenly popped up out of the foggy depths of my memory. "Can...can I call you Minnie? I don't know why, but it just...just seems...right?" I said hesitantly.

"Oh, my dear one, I would absolutely love that. It's been years since I last heard that nickname." Once again I saw her eyes mist over and I reached out and squeezed her hand as I smiled comfortingly. "You can call me Kat, in return if you'd like." Her face brightened as she returned my smile.

"So where do we go to get all this stuff mentioned?" I pulled out the list and glanced it over. "My goodness, that's a lot of equipment!" 

"Diagon Alley, of course! But unfortunately, I have to get back to the school so you will be meeting up with Hagrid. He is taking another new student to get his things as well. He was also raised by muggles, so I'm sure you guys can find something in common to talk about."

"Muggles?" I said in confusion.

"Non-magic folk." She said simply. "Now hold onto my hand very tightly, Kat." I gripped her hand harder as she spun us around and I felt a tugging sensation in my stomach. I closed my eyes as I struggled to fight the rising nausea. 

"You can open your eyes now, Kat." 

My eyes widened in shock as I saw that we were no longer standing in my small attic room. Instead, we know faced a corner shop that had a sign danging over the door that read, "The Leaky Cauldron".

My eyes flew to Minnie's and she grinned down at my shocked expression. "But...how..."

"Magic, my dear little Kat, magic." She said slyly.

Before I could think of anything else to say, she glanced behind me a gave a shout.

"Ah, Hagrid! I see you made it safely. Were there any problems?"

"Nothin' I couldn't handle, Professor" I heard a booming voice say from over my shoulder. I slowly turned around and gazed up, and up, and up, and up. 

"Blimey, your gigantic!" I said without thinking. I clapped my hands over my mouth. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to be rude!" 

"Nothin' t worry bout' my dear, nothin' t worry bout'. You must be Katrina! I'm Hagrid. Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. An' this o'course is Harry." He said with a chuckle as he shoved a scrawny boy my age out from behind him. 

"Um...hello, Harry. Nice to meet you." I said nervously as I looked at the boy before me. He looked to be my age and had messy black hair and startling green eyes that peered back at me through round glasses. I noticed a curious lightning shaped scar on his forehead but decided it would be impolite to ask about it so soon.

"Nice to meet you to, Katrina." He said giving me a small smile back. 

"Well, I really should be getting back to the school. Have fun you two, but remember to behave for Hagrid and not to wander far!" She said giving us a stern look before turning on the spot and disappearing. Harry and I stood staring at the spot where she had been until we heard Hagrid shout for us to come along. I blushed and murmured a quick thank you as Harry rushed to open the door for me then followed behind as I stepped into the Leaky Cauldron.


	2. Diagon Alley

Harry's POV

The low buzz of chatter stopped when the three of us walked in. Everyone seemed to know Hagrid though; they waved and smiled at him, and the bartender reached for a glass, saying, "The usual, Hagrid?" 

"Can't, Tom, I'm on official Hogwarts business," said Hagrid, clapping his great hand on my shoulder and making my knees buckle. "Taking young Harry and Katrina here to buy their school supplies."

"Good Lord," said the bartender, peering at me, "is this...can this be?" The Leaky Cauldron suddenly went completely still and silent. 

"Bless my soul," whispered the old bartender, "Harry Potter...what an honor." He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed towards me and seized my hand, tears in his eyes. "Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back." I didn't know what to say. Everyone was looking at me and I was beginning to feel self-conscious. The old woman with the pipe was puffing on it without realizing it had gone out. My eyes met Katrina's who looked just as shocked by the reaction I was getting as I was, but she simply shrugged her shoulders in equal confusion.

Then there was a great scraping of chairs and the next moment, I found myself shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron. 

I shook hands again and again. Doris Crockford kept coming back for more.

The sheer number of people coming up to greet me was overwhelming and I could feel my face redden as I continued to become more and more flustered. Suddenly, I felt a small hand take mine and gently squeeze it. I looked over and saw Katrina's twinkling blue eyes staring into mine as she gave me a reassuring smile. 

"Thank you" I mouthed as Hagrid dragged the two of us over to a corner and introduced us to an odd-looking man wearing a purple turban. 

"Professor Quirrell!" said Hagrid. "Harry, Katrina, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."

"P-P-Potter, K-Katrina" stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping our hands, "c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you." 

"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?" I heard Katrina ask politely. 

"D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he'd rather not think about it. "N-not that you n-need it, eh,P-P-Potter?" He laughed nervously. 

I noticed that he was staring at Katrina very intently. I narrowed my eyes at this strange stuttering man in a purple turban. I didn't like the way his eyes followed Katrina's every movement. And there was a gleam in his eyes that creeped me out. 

"You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." He looked terrified at the very thought and suddenly dashed off before I could think of a good response.

It took almost ten minutes to get away from them all. At last, Hagrid managed to make himself heard over the babble. "Must get on...lots ter buy. Come on, Harry, Katrina." 

As we left, I noticed Katrina glancing back at the man in confusion and wincing as she rubbed her collar bone. She noticed my concerned expression and reached over to grab my hand again as we continued to follow Hagrid as he led us through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds.

"Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh you was famous. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin' ter meet yeh. Mind you, he's usually tremblin'." Hagrid said as he grinned down at me.

"Is he always that nervous?" 

"Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin' outta books but then he took a year off ter get some firsthand experience...never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject now, where's me umbrella?" 

"Hagrid, why are we just standing in front of a brick wall?" I asked him in confusion. He ignored me and muttered under his breath as he pulled out his pink umbrella and tapped the stones in a particular order. 

"Three up...two across he muttered. "Right, stand back, you two." 

He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella and the brick he had touched slowly quivered then wriggled to life.

I felt Katrina's grip tighten on my hand as we watched in amazement as the bricks started shifting around and an archway appeared large enough even for Hagrid. I looked at Katrina; my eyes wide, as together we stepped through the arch and into the bustling crowd of shoppers. 

"Welcome," said Hagrid, "to Diagon Alley." 

The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons -- All Sizes - Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver -- Self-Stirring-- Collapsible, said a sign hanging over them. 

"Yeah, you'll be needin' one," said Hagrid, "but we gotta get yer money first." 

I turned my head in every direction as the three of us walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. A plump woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as we passed, saying, "Dragon liver, seventeen Sickles an ounce, they're mad..."

I heard Katrina giggle as she yanked me by the arm and tugged me back and forth across the streets trying not to miss anything. Her enthusiasm was infectious and I laughed harder than I had in a long time as I let her take the lead. 

Katrina was so focused on weaving back and forth across the streets to make sure she didn't miss anything that she quickly forgot to watch out for what was in front of her.

"Ow!" I heard her cry out as she stumbled into Hagrid. I couldn't help it and burst out laughing and when she glared at me, it only made me laugh harder. She managed to keep her angry glare for about 30 seconds before she lost control and smiled with me. When I finally managed to contain myself I noticed that we had reached a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops and had the words; "Gringotts Bank" written in large gold lettering across the entrance.

Quirrell's POV

As I stared at the young boy and girl in front of me, I shivered. I could hear my master's thoughts in my head. Something about the girl drew his attention but he wouldn't tell me what. From what I gathered, she must have some sort of powers that he wanted but what powers could an eleven year old girl possibly have that my master would be interested in? I trembled as my masters voiced echoed loudly throughout my mind; ordering me to keep a careful watch on the girl.


	3. Gringotts Bank

Katrina's POV

"Yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it," said Hagrid as Harry and I read the words engraved into the set of doors that stood before us. I shivered slightly at the ominous warning but managed to smile in thanks to the goblin who ushered us through the silver doors and walked us over to one of the open counters situated within the vast marble hall. 

"Morning," said Hagrid to the goblin at the desk. "We've come ter take some money outta Mr. Harry Potter and Ms. Katrina's safes."

"You have their keys, Sir?"

"Got them here somewhere," said Hagrid as he started emptying his pockets onto the counter. The goblin wrinkled his nose and I chuckled quietly to myself at the expression on his face. Harry, I noticed, was watching a goblin on our right weighing a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals.

"Got em," said Hagrid at last, holding up two tiny golden keys.

The goblin examined them closely. "That seems to be in order."

"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid importantly, throwing out his chest. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."

The goblin read the letter carefully. "Very well," he said, handing it back to Hagrid, "I will have someone take you down to all three vaults. Griphook!"

Griphook was yet another goblin. Once Hagrid had crammed all his stuff back inside his pockets, he, Harry, and I followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading off the hall.

"What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Harry and I asked at the same time. I grinned at him and punched his shoulder lightly. "Jinx! You owe me a soda!"

"Deal." He said as we both turned to look at Hagrid in anticipation. 

"Can't tell yeh that," said Hagrid mysteriously. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that."

Griphook held the door open for us and whistled loudly. I wish I could whistle, but it was a skill I had yet to even come close to mastering. A small cart came hurtling up the tracks and we climbed in; Hagrid with some difficulty, and were off.

We hurtled through a maze of twisting passages as the cold air rushed past us. Once, I thought I saw a burst of fire at the end of a tunnel and twisted around to see if it was a dragon, but too late...man it would have been cool to see a dragon! I had read about them in a worn out children's book at the orphanage and had always thought it would be so cool if they turned out to be real. Better yet, how amazing would it be to own one! Nah, that probably wouldn't work. But still, it was nice to know that they weren't just a fairytale. It looked like a lot of what I had thought to be stories were in fact, reality, and I couldn't wait to discover the mysteries of the magical world!

We plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor.

"I never know," I heard Harry call to Hagrid over the noise of the cart, "what's the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?"

"Stalagmite's got an 'm' in it," said Hagrid. "An' don' ask me questions just now, I think I'm gonna be sick." I know I shouldn't find it funny but I couldn't help but laugh at the expression on Hagrid's face. 

He did look very green, and when the cart stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall, Hagrid got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from trembling. I walked over to him and patted his knee (the highest spot I could reach) in what I hoped was a comforting way. When he'd stopped shaking, he gave me a small smile.

"Thanks, Katrina. Yer' a good kid."

"You're welcome, Hagrid. You can call me Kat, if you'd like." The man might be huge and somewhat of a stranger still, but he seemed nice and I wanted to show him how much I appreciated him helping me navigate my way around. Normally I was left on my own and let's just say...it sometimes lead me into trouble on the streets of london. I hated spending time at the orphanage with Liza and the other girls so I wandered around a lot...But I just liked to think that it made me stronger and more capable of looking after myself. 

Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Harry and I gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts.

"All yours, Harry" smiled Hagrid.

All Harry's. It was incredible.

"Wow, Harry!" I exclaimed trying to take it all in. "You owe me a room-full of soda now!" I grinned widely at him so he knew I was just kidding. 

Hagrid helped Harry pile some of it into a bag.

"The gold ones are Galleons," he explained to us. "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough. Right, that should be enough fer a couple o' terms, we'll keep the rest safe for yeh." He turned to Griphook. "Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?"

"One speed only," said Griphook. I shook my head feeling sorry for my large new friend, knowing how sick he must be feeling.

We were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as the cart hurtled round tight corners and I shivered as my blood froze. I felt arms wrap around me and smiled up at Harry. He was so sweet! 

We finally arrived and the two of us rushed out of the cart desperate to solve the mystery of what the vault contained. 

"Stand back," said Griphook importantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away.

"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," said Griphook.

"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" I asked, horrified. 

"About once every ten years," said Griphook with a rather nasty grin.

Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top security vault, we were sure, and both of us leaned forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least...but at first it appeared to be empty. Then I noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. I longed to know what it was, but knew better than to ask. I knew there must be a reason for all of Hagrid's secrecy.

"Come on, back in this infernal cart, and don't talk to me on the way to Kat's vault, it's best if I keep me mouth shut," said Hagrid.

One wild cart ride later and we stood in front of a large black door. My turn. Griphook ran his finger across the thick metal like he had done with the mystery vault and it slowly swung open.

I gasped. The contents was just as shocking as Harry's had been. There were stacks upon stacks of the large gold coins and light was reflecting off of every surface. As I stood there scanning the room in amazement, I noticed that there wasn't just coins in the vault. The sides of the room were lined with high shelves packed with all kinds of trinkets, swords, shields, scrolls, and other instruments I couldn't identify. They looked homemade and I could tell it must have taken a genius to invent them.

"Hurry up, Kat! We don't 'ave all day!" Hagrid grumbled as he leaned heavily against one of the walls. 

I quickly scooped up handfuls of coins and glanced over to Hagrid to make sure I had gotten enough. He managed a small nod of his head and we got back into the cart. By the time we finally got back to the surface, even I was feeling a little queasy. The minute we got back outside though, I was back to normal as I bounced up and down with excitement. I heard a strange sound besides me and looked over to see Harry struggling not to burst into laughter again as he stared at me. In response, I stuck my tongue out at him and pulled him down the street with me like before.


	4. Wands

Katrina's POV

"Might as well get yer uniform," said Hagrid, directing us towards Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, would you two mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts." He did still look a bit sick, so Harry and I nodded and entered Madam Malkin's shop by ourselves. 

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve."Hogwarts, dears?" she said when I started to speak. "Got the lot here, another young man is being fitted up just now, in fact." 

I looked to where she pointed at the back of the shop. A boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood us on the stools on either side of him and before I could blink, she'd slipped a long robe over my head and begun to pin it to the right length. 

"Hello," said the boy looking at both of us. "Hogwarts, too?" 

"Yes" we said together. I refrained from shouting "Jinx!" as this new boy made me nervous and I didn't know what to make of him.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow. Have either of you got your own broom?" the boy went on. 

"No," I mumbled and heard Harry say as well. I didn't like this boy one bit so far. I didn't like this kid one bit. He seemed stuck up and like a rich spoiled daddy's boy who always got what he wanted. 

"Play Quidditch at all?" 

"No," we said again. What the hell is Quidditch? I really wanted to know but before I could ask the boy started talking again.

"I do. Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?" 

"No," I said, feeling more stupid by the minute and lowering my gaze to the floor in shame. I really really DIDN'T like this guy. Every word out of his mouth was an insult of some kind and he looked like a blonde ferret. If only I knew how to do magic already...I would turn him into one.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been. Imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" 

"Mmm," said Harry. I just nodded my head wishing he would leave soon. I had no idea what he was talking about. What the hell was a Hufflepuff?! Sounded like some sort of furry creature.

"I say, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and I as he pointed at three large ice creams to show he couldn't come in. 

"That's Hagrid," said Harry. "He works at Hogwarts." 

"Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?" 

"He's the gamekeeper," I said as my head shot up to glare at the boy. I was liking him less and less with every passing second. Oh, Merlin, if only I could turn him into the toad that he was!

"Yes, exactly. I heard he lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed." 

"I think he's brilliant," said Harry coldly. 

"I agree," I said, glaring.

"Do you?" said the boy, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," said Harry shortly. I could hear the sorrow in his voice and I fought the urge to punch the boy for his lack of tact. He looked over at me. 

"I don't know anything about mine..." I mumbled staring at the floor again. I hadn't ever known anything about my parents. Not their names...not whether they were magical...literally nothing. All I know was that I had been dropped off at the orphanage when I was five years old and a note with my name on it. I had no memory of anything before that day, even though babies typically start forming memories as early as one and two. But me? Nope. The first five years of my life were a complete blank. I didn't even know if my parents were dead...or if they were alive and just didn't want anything to do with me...

"Oh, sorry," said the boy; not sounding sorry at all. "But they were our kind, weren't they?"

"Mine were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean." said Harry. I just shrugged my shoulders sadly as I fiddled with my hands and gazed at the floor. Harry looked over at me and gave me a sympathetic hand squeeze when the blonde idiot wasn't looking.

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?" 

Before Harry or I could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you two done, my dears," and we hopped down from the footstools in relief. 

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the drawling boy. Bloody hell, I hope I never have to see that git again. I thought to myself.

Harry and I were rather quiet as we ate the ice cream Hagrid had bought us. 

"What's up?" said Hagrid.

"Nothing," Harry lied. I nodded in agreement. 

After we finished our ice creams and continued shopping, we both cheered up a little. We stopped and got parchment, quills, and ink, which was a welcome distraction.

As we were leaving the shop, however, I heard Harry say, "Hagrid, what's Quidditch?" 

"Blimey, Harry, I keep forgettin' how little yeh know...not knowin'about Quidditch!" 

"Don't make him feel worse than he already does, Hagrid! Neither of us were raised knowing about magic!" I exclaimed suddenly feeling very protective. I paused for a moment utterly surprised by my outburst. I was not normally the type, then again, I had never really had anything to be protective of. Harry smiled gratefully at me as Hagrid chuckled.

"Meanin' no offense o'course, Kat!"

We continued to walk down the street as Harry told Hagrid about the pale boy in Madam Malkin's. 

"...and he said people from Muggle families shouldn't even be allowed in." 

"Yer not from a Muggle family. If he'd known who yeh were...he's grown up knowin' yer name if his parents are wizardin' folk. You saw what everyone in the Leaky Cauldron was like when they saw yeh. Anyway, what does he know about it, some o' the best I ever saw were the only ones with magic in 'em in a long line o' Muggles. Look at yer mum! Look what she had fer a sister!"

"I bet my parents were both muggles..." I said sadly. It was Harry's turn to grab my hand and comfort me as he decided to redirect the conversation. I looked up at him gratefully. 

"So what is Quidditch?" 

"It's our sport. Wizard sport. It's like...like soccer in the Muggle world. Everyone follows Quidditch. Played up in the air on broomsticks and there's four balls. Sorta hard ter explain the rules." 

"And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?" I chimed in. I really wanted to know if there were furry fuzzball pets. Sounded like something I could really get behind.

"School houses. There's four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o'duffers, but..." 

"I bet I'm in Hufflepuff" Harry and I said gloomily.

"Jinx!" I said halfheartedly.

"Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin," said Hagrid darkly. "There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one." 

"Vol-, sorry - You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts?" 

"Years an' years ago," said Hagrid.  

"Who's he?" I said not following. Instead of answering, Hagrid pretended not to hear me and continued down the street. I looked at Harry but he shook his head and whispered, "I'll try and explain later, though I don't know much." I frowned, my curiosity almost getting the best of me, but Hagrid's next words distracted me from trying to find out who this mysterious person was.

"Just yer wands left...ah yeah, an' I still haven't got yer birthday presents." I felt himself go red. 

"You don't have to..." 

"I know I don't have to. Tell yeh what, I'll get yer animals. Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed at, an' I don'like cats, they make me sneeze. I'll get yer two owls. All the kids want owls, they're dead useful, carry yer mail an' everythin'." 

Twenty minutes later, we left Eeylops Owl Emporium, which had been dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. Harry had chosen a beautiful snowy white owl, whereas I had picked out a jet-black one. Both Harry and I couldn't thank Hagrid enough.

"Don' mention it," said Hagrid gruffly. "Don' expect either a you had a lotta presents growing up. Just Ollivanders left now. Only place fer wands, Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wand." 

A magic wand...this was what we had been really looking forward to. I squealed in excitement and hopped up and down forcing Harry to join along in my dance. He laughed at my childish antics.

The shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window and a tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as we stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Hagrid sat on to wait. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic. 

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. I jumped. Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair. I glanced at Harry and we both burst out laughing.

"Hello," I said awkwardly as I noticed an old man watching us closely. 

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter and Katrina..." It wasn't a question. I wondered how he knew my name...but he didn't give me a chance to ask...though I didn't fail to notice how he hesitated at my last name; almost as if he knew it, but didn't want to say it - which I found strange since even I didn't know my last name. Orphans like me weren't normally given that particular honor...but this random old man seemed to know; but not want to tell me. How could that be?!

"You have your mother's eyes, boy. Seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work." Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harry. "Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it but it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Harry were almost nose to nose. I could tell that Harry was uncomfortable and I shifted anxiously. 

"And that's where..."Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger. As he did so, I became painfully aware of my own scar and rubbed my collar bone. I was still confused as to why it had suddenly started hurting when we were in the Leaky Cauldron...it had grown unbearably hot right as I looked into Quirrell's eyes. I had never felt anything from my scar before, but I'm sure it was only a coincidence. I also hadn't failed to notice how the purple-clad Professor had watched my every movement. It had been very creepy and I could have sworn I heard a voice whispering to me from the back of his turban; but that was insane, right ?

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he was saying softly as I returned to the current conversation. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands...well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do..." He shook his head and then spotted Hagrid. "Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again...Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?" 

"It was, sir, yes," said Hagrid. 

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" said Mr. Ollivander, suddenly stern. I looked at Hagrid shocked. He'd gotten expelled? I wonder what for. I looked at Harry but he just shrugged. 

"Er...yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid, shuffling his feet. "I've still got the pieces, though," he added brightly. 

"But you don't use them?" said Mr. Ollivander sharply.

"Oh, no, sir," said Hagrid quickly. I noticed he gripped his pink umbrella very tightly as he spoke and made a note to ask him about this later. 

"Hmmm," said Mr. Ollivander, giving Hagrid a piercing look. 

"Well, now...Mr. Potter. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?" 

"Er, well, I'm right-handed," said Harry. 

"Hold out your arm. That's it." As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand." 

With that said, Mr. Ollivander started flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes. "That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. just take it and give it a wave."

Harry took the wand and waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once."Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try..." Harry tried but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander. "No, no, here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."Harry tried. And tried. I had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for...nothing seemed to be happening with any of them. Other than a lot of broken glass and pottery, that is.

The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair and eventually Mr. Ollivander said that I might as well start trying wands from the pile to see if one worked for me, but I had as much luck as Harry seemed to be having. I did more damage to the store than he had and with each wand I tried, I got more and more nervous. What if there had been a mistake. What if none of these wands wanted to "choose me"? What if I didn't have enough magic in me to deserve a wand?! All I seemed to do was cause more and more destruction to the shop.

However, the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become."Tricky customers, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect matches here somewhere...I wonder, now...yes, why not...unusual combinations..." He disappeared into the back and returned with two wands. The first he handed to Harry saying it was holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches. 

Harry took the wand, raised it above his head, and brought it swishing down through the dusty air. My jaw dropped as a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end.

Hagrid whooped and clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well...how curious...how very curious..." He put Harry's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious...very curious..." He then stretched out the second wand for me to take. I held my breath in as I slowly took it from him.

The next thing I knew, I was blinded by a bright flash of golden light as bright as the sun. I squinted my eyes as I tried to see what was happening but it was no use. My eyes watered and I couldn't see a single thing. I closed my eyes and stood frozen where I was. Was this supposed to happen? It certainly had not happened with Harry's wand! 

When I felt the light falling on my lids darken enough, I finally risked opening them again. A pair of green eyes reflected my own shock back at me. I shifted my focus to Mr. Ollivander who was acting odder than ever. In the back of my mind, I noticed that all the broken things that littered the floor of the shop had been fixed and gleamed happily from their perches again.

"Even more curious! My goodness...haven't seen a reaction like that since...but of course...that would explain it...but still...how curious!"

"Excuse me, Sir. But could you please explain what the bloody hell is so curious about mine and Harry's wands?!" I cried out trying to mask my frustration. I had just about had it with this guy! I clapped my hand over my mouth in shock as I had never cursed out loud before. I could see Harry by my side struggling not to laugh at my horror when he saw my reaction. What could I say, I was a stickler for propriety, though if you asked Mrs. Templeton, she would say anything but. I doubt she had ever said anything nice about me in the six years that I had been at the orphanage. 

Mr. Ollivander fixed us with his pale stare. "I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter and Ms. Katrina. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feathers reside in both your wands, gave one other feather, just one. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for those wands, when its brother, why, its brother gave you those scars. 

Furthermore, it is curious that your wand, Katrina, is also combined with a dragon heartstring and a drop of Basilisk venom. A unheard of and very powerful mixture. I confess, there was a period where I dabbled and experimented with...elements not ought to be meddled with...so much power...I regretted making it immediately...yet so much power...I dared not destroy it..." I watched his eyes triple in size as fear took over and swallowed the lump in my throat. This was not sounding good...I resisted the urge to fling the wand away from me at his words but as soon as the idea entered my mind a hot tingling sensation ran from the wand up through my arm and warmed my entire body - and the thought vanished. It was like the wand had heard my thought and didn't want me to let go. How strange.

"Yes, curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember...I think we can expect great things from you, Mr. Potter, Ms. Katrina. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things...terrible, yes, but great." I shivered. I still had no idea who this never-to-be-named fellow was, but I was seriously starting to get scared. 

Harry paid seven gold Galleons for his wand, while I dug out fourteen of my own, and Mr. Ollivander bowed us from his shop. The minute we were out, I clutched Harry's hand in a death-grip.

"Harry, that was scary..." I confessed with a nervous giggle.

"Yeah, yeah it was." He agreed glancing back at the store. 

We returned to the Leaky Cauldron and made our way back to Little Whinging. It was a surprise when we found out that we both lived in the same city! But it was a happy, yet unfortunate surprise. I felt my face go red with embarrassment as I observed Harry's face as he recognized the name of the orphanage I was heading back to. 

It was quite infamous in the neighborhood for being a horrible place and while I agreed, I had never cared so much about someone's opinion before and when he asked where I lived, it was awkward having to tell him knowing that he'd know. But Harry just hugged me and held my hand until we had to part ways and I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Not only was I going to get to learn magic, but I was going to have a friend beside me for the first time in my life.


	5. The Hogwarts Express

Katrina's POV

The next few months flew by as I waited excitedly for September 1 to arrive. I read all my new books three times over and spent my days writing letters to my new friend, Harry Potter. 

He had decided to name his owl Hedwig, and I had chosen to call mine Salazar. He teased me a great deal when I first told him this since we both had decided we did not want to be in Slytherin...but for some reason the name called out to me and seemed fitting so I said screw it and didn't mind that he made fun of me for naming my owl after the man who had founded Slytherin House.

Having Harry to talk to made my last few months at the orphanage bearable and for once I wasn't bothered by all the teasing and bullying I had to put up with. The other girls slowly seemed to realize this fact and to my astonishment, the frequency of their "interruptions" died down and they left me alone.

********************************************

Finally, it was the 1st! I raced down the stairs to where my luggage was waiting by the door; I had gotten everything ready last night to avoid any unnecessary delays. I sat on the couch with my hands in my lap until I heard the screech of tires outside the building. I hopped up and ran out the door and flung myself into Harry's arms.

"Oh my goodness! I can't believe it, Harry! It's happening, it's really happening, we're going to Hogwarts. Are you excited? I'm excited!" I paused as I remembered to breath. 

Harry chuckled at my enthusiasm as he helped me load my luggage into his Uncle's car. Since we lived so close to each other, Harry had asked his Aunt and Uncle if they could give me a lift as well. We were both amazed when they agreed. From what Harry told me about them, they were rotten people, but all the same, they were helping me so I graciously thanked them.

"Wow, you were right, Harry! He looks like he's permanently ticked-off or something!" I whispered as I got into the back seat with my friend. "Didn't even acknowledge that I was thanking him..." I frowned. I was used to adults ignoring me, but even still, his Uncle seemed to be taking it to the extreme.

"Yeah, all three of them have that look," Harry whispered as he continued to smile at me. 

The whole ride over to the station I was slightly bouncing up and down barely able to contain my excitement and I could tell Harry noticed because he kept glancing over at me and smirking. I stuck my tongue out at him as I continued to bob up and down with excitement.

When we finally pulled into the parking lot, I squealed and dashed off to find us two luggage carts. Neither his aunt or uncle helped us unload; just stood there watching, and when we had finished, silently got back into the car and drove off. I shook my head in amazement at their deference towards their nephew.

Nothing could ruin my mood though so I just giggled and dragged Harry off to find platform 9 3/4. 

"...Harry, are we in the wrong place?" I said nervously. I had found platform 9 and platform 10, but there didn't seem to be any sign for a 9 3/4. 

Harry stopped a passing guard, but the guard had never heard of Hogwarts and when we couldn't even tell him what part of the country it was in, he started to get annoyed, as though we were being stupid on purpose. Getting desperate, I asked for the train that left at eleven o'clock, but the guard said there wasn't one. In the end the guard strode away, muttering about time wasters. 

I was now trying hard not to panic. According to the large clock over the arrivals board, we had ten minutes left to get on the train to Hogwarts and still had no idea how to do it; we were stranded in the middle of a station with trunks we could hardly lift, pockets full of wizard money, and two large owls. Hagrid must have forgotten to tell us something that you had to do, like tapping the third brick on the left to get into Diagon Alley. Harry asked me if he thought we should get out our wands and start tapping the ticket inspector's stand between platforms nine and ten, but at that moment a group of people passed just behind him and we caught a few words of what they were saying. 

"...packed with Muggles, of course..." We swung round. The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to four boys, all with flaming red hair. Each of them was pushing a trunk like ours in front of him...and they had an owl too! Heart hammering, I watched nervously as Harry pushed his cart over to them. They stopped and so did he, just near enough to hear what they were saying. 

"Now, what's the platform number?" said the boys' mother. 

"Nine and three-quarters!" piped a small girl, also red-headed, who was holding her hand, "Mom, can't I go... " 

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first." What looked like the oldest boy marched toward platforms nine and ten. I watched, careful not to blink in case I missed it...but just as the boy reached the dividing barrier between the two platforms, a large crowd of tourists came swarming in front of him and by the time the last backpack had cleared away, the boy had vanished. 

"Fred, you next," the plump woman said. "I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?" 

"Sorry, George, dear." 

"Only joking, I am Fred," said the boy, and off he went. His twin called after him to hurry up, and he must have done so, because a second later, he had gone...but how had he done it? Now the third brother was walking briskly toward the barrier he was almost there...and then, quite suddenly, he wasn't anywhere. There was nothing else for it. Harry and I exchanged a look before stepping forward towards the group.

"Excuse me," Harry said to the plump woman. "Hello, dears," she said. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too." She pointed at the last and youngest of her sons. He was tall, thin, and gangly, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose. 

"Yes," said Harry. "The thing is...the thing is, we don't know how to..." 

"How to get onto the platform?" she said kindly, and Harry nodded. 

"Not to worry," she said. "All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron."

"Er, okay," said Harry. He motioned for me to come over and together we pushed our trolleys around and stared at the barrier before walking straight at it. As people jostled around us we started walking more quickly and finally broke into a heavy run...the barrier was coming nearer and nearer...we wouldn't be able to stop...my cart was out of control...I was a foot away. 

I closed his eyes ready for the crash but it never came. I stopped running and opened my eyes slowly.

A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven O'clock. I looked behind me and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it, we had done it! 

Harry and I pushed our carts off down the platform in search of an empty seat. I followed Harry through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the train. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk toward the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot. I tried to help, but even with the two of us, it was too heavy to lift up. I was not wimpy or weak per say, but that trunk was HEAVY and I don't think I did anything but get in the way...

"Want a hand?" It was one of the red-haired twins he'd followed through the barrier.

"Yes, please," we panted. "Jinx!" I said, punching Harry's arm again.

"Is this going to become a ritual of yours? Because if you haven't noticed, we tend to say the same things at the same time a lot..." Harry said rubbing his shoulder. I simply nodded and gave him my sweetest smile before sticking my tongue out at him again. He rolled his eyes as he swung an arm around my shoulders in a side hug.

"Oy, Fred! C'mere and help!" With the twins' help, mine and Harry's trunks were at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment.

"Thanks," said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes as I collapsed onto the seats, panting with exhaustion. 

"What's that?" said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at Harry's lightning scar. 

"Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you"

"He is," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added to Harry.

"What?" said Harry. I looked at the three of them in confusion. Bloody hell, those two twins really seemed to like finishing each others sentences. I could tell why it was so easy for even their mom to get them mixed up. But as I observed them closely I started to notice minor differences that helped distinguish them from one another, and made a note so as not to forget who was who.

"Harry Potter, "chorused the twins.

"Oh, him," said Harry. "I mean, yes, I am." It was my turn to giggle and roll my eyes at the blush that was creeping over Harry's round face. He was so cute when he blushed! I had to stop my thought process in its tracks as I started to feel my face going red as well.

The two boys gawked at him until one of them turned to me.

"and what's your name, sweetheart?" he said kindly.

I blushed as they all turned to look at me. I had never really liked being the center of attention. It usually meant I was in trouble for something. Like the time I had somehow managed to flood the kitchen with water. No one had believed me but I hadn't been anywhere near the sink but I still had gotten beaten too a pulp in front of all the other kids because Mrs. Templeton had not believed me when I had told her I had no clue how the place had suddenly filled with icy cold water. 

And there was that time when Liza and her friends had been circled all around me taunting and jeering at me for being the loser that no one wanted to adopt (which I had always found hypocritical, considering they were also stuck in the same position as I was...). They had cornered me in the back yard when a sudden gust of wind had knocked them all flat on their bums, giving me the chance to flee and nurse my wounds in a deserted alley before sneaking back inside under the cover of night.

"Katrina" I said, shaking the memories away. I was going to Hogwarts. I had to keep reminding myself of that. Things would be a lot better from now on. Then a voice came floating in through the train's open door. "Fred? George? Are you there?"

"Coming, Mom." With a last look at Harry, the twins hopped off the train. Harry sat down on the opposite side of me and we watched the red-haired family on the platform, half hidden, and listened to what they were saying. 

"Hey, Mom, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?" We leaned back quickly so they couldn't see us looking. "You know that black-haired boy who was near us in the station? Know who he is?"

"Who?"

"Harry Potter"

"Is he really, Fred? How do you know?"

"Asked him. Saw his scar. It's really there - like lightning."

"Poor dear - no wonder he was alone, I wondered. Both he and that darling little girl were ever so polite when they asked how to get onto the platform."

"Never mind that, do you think he remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?" Their mother suddenly became very stern.

"I forbid you to ask him, Fred. No, don't you dare. As though he needs reminding of that on his first day at school.

""All right, keep your hair on." A whistle sounded.

"Hurry up!" their mother said, and the three boys clambered onto the train. They leaned out of the window for her to kiss them good-bye, and their younger sister began to cry.

"Don't, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls."

"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat."

"George!"

"Only joking, Mom."

The train began to move. I saw the boys' mother waving and their sister, half laughing, half crying, running to keep up with the train until it gathered too much speed, then she fell back and waved. 

I sighed as I thought about the red headed family. It must be nice to have family. And not just family, but the kind that seemed to love each other as much as the red heads seemed to. I trued not to dwell on the negative, strongly believing that no matter how bad my life was, there was always someone out there who had it worse than me; so who was I to complain, but sometimes it was hard to fight back the dull ache I felt whenever I watched other children with their parents.

The door of the compartment slid open and the youngest redheaded boy came in.

"Anyone sitting there?" he asked, pointing at the seat next to Harry. "Everywhere else is full." Harry shook his head and the boy sat down. He glanced at Harry and me then looked quickly out of the window, pretending he hadn't. I saw he had a black mark on his nose.

"Hey, Ron." The twins were back. "Listen, we're going down the middle of the train, Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," mumbled Ron.

"Harry, Katrina" said the other twin, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then.

"Bye," said Harry, Ron, and I. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurted out. Harry nodded.

"Oh - well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes," said Ron. "And have you really got...you know..."He pointed at Harry's forehead. Harry pulled back his bangs to show the lightning scar. As he did so, I subconsciously reached up to my own, but then let my hand fall as I realized what I was doing. 

After seeing the reaction Harry had received at Diagon Alley, I did NOT want anyone knowing that I had almost the exact same scar - especially when I didn't even know what that meant yet. For all I knew, the similarity was just my imagination playing tricks on me. It was just a mark after all, it couldn't possibly be that important. I just wished I could remember how the bloody hell I had gotten it. But whenever I tried to think back, all I could get was a brief glimpse of a blinding green light and for all I knew I was just remembering a plain old completely unrelated traffic light.

Ron stared. "So that's where You-Know-Who"

"Yes," said Harry, "but I can't remember it."

"Nothing?" said Ron eagerly.

"Well - I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else." I stared at Harry as he said this. Was it possible that maybe, just maybe, there WAS something important about the green light?

"Wow," said Ron. He sat and stared at Harry for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realized what he was doing, looked quickly at me and stretched his arm out to shake mine and introduce himself. 

"Are all your family wizards?" I asked curiously.

"Er - Yes, I think so," said Ron. 

"So you must know loads of magic already." I said impressed. The Weasleys were clearly one of those old wizarding families the pale boy in Diagon Alley had talked about. "I guess, what about your parents?"

"I've never met them, so I don't know..." I said. I looked down at my hands as I knotted them into the material of my jacket. It was twice my size as was all my clothes, but it gave me plenty of cloth to play with when I was nervous, so I didn't mind.

"I heard you went to live with Muggles," said Ron to break up the awkward silence that followed my reply. "What are they like?"

"Horrible, well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers."

"Five," said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. He told us about his other brothers and younger sister, telling us about how he didn't think he would be able to meet everyone's expectations of him and how he never got anything new being one of the youngest. He pulled out his pet rat as an example. 

"His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff-I mean, I got Scabbers instead." Ron's ears went pink. He seemed to think he'd said too much, because he went back to staring out of the window. 

Harry told Ron about how he had never had any money with the Dursley's and I in turn told him how I got all the worn out and broken and or shredded stuff at the orphanage since I was the one everyone liked least of all on account of all the strange things that occurred around me that I now knew had been caused by magic.

This seemed to cheer Ron up.

"... and until Minnie and Hagrid told us, we didn't know anything about being a wizard or any of it!" I explained.

"Yeah, I'd never heard about what happened to my parents or about Voldemort" Harry added. Ron gasped.

"What?" said Harry.

"You said You-Know-Who's name!" said Ron, sounding both shocked and impressed. "I'd have thought you, of all people"

"I'm not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name," said Harry, I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn...I bet, I bet I'm the worst in the class." I grabbed his hand and squirmed my way in between the two of them so that I could comfort him. 

"You won't be. There's loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough." We continued to talk and get to know each other and soon we were laughing and having a great time.

********************************************

Around half past twelve, a smiling, dimpled woman slid back our door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?" Harry and I, who hadn't had any breakfast, leapt to our feet, but Ron's ears went pink again and he muttered that he'd brought sandwiches. Harry went out into the corridor and returned with a little bit of everything. I reached into my own bag and pushed a few coins into Harry's hand to split the cost as Ron stared at what Harry had brought in.

"Hungry, are you?"

"Starving," said Harry and I together; after which I of course, whacked him on the shoulder and shouted, "Jinx".

"Swap you for one of these," said Harry, holding up a pasty. "Go on..."

"You don't want this, it's all dry," said Ron. "She hasn't got much time," he added quickly, "you know, with five of us."

"Go on, have a pasty."

We sat there eating our way through the massive pile as Ron explained what everything was.

"What are these?" Harry asked Ron, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs. "They're not really frogs, are they?" 

"No," said Ron. "But see what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa."

"What?"

"Oh, of course, you wouldn't know...Chocolate Frogs have cards, inside them, you know, to collect - famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy." Harry unwrapped his Chocolate Frog and picked up the card and showed it to me. There was a picture of an old man who wore half- moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard, and a mustache. Underneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore.

"So this is Dumbledore!" I said excitedly. I was interested to know who the man was. I remembered his name being on my Hogwarts letter, listed as the Headmaster.

"Don't tell me you'd never heard of Dumbledore!" said Ron. "Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa...thanks!"

Harry turned over the card and we read the description on the back together.

Harry turned the card back over and we saw, to our astonishment, that Dumbledore's face had disappeared. "He's gone!" we cried out.

"Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day," Ron's eyes strayed to the pile of unopened Chocolate Frogs. 

"Help yourself," said Harry. "But in, you know, the Muggle world, people just stay put in photos."

After the frogs, we opened a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

"You want to be careful with those," Ron warned Harry and I. "When they say every flavor, they mean every flavor - you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a booger flavored one once." Ron picked up a green bean, looked at it carefully, and bit into a corner. "Bleaaargh - see? Sprouts." I laughed at Ron's expression and nervously took one for myself.

"mmmm...Cherry" I said grinning at them and smacking my lips. Harry stuck his tongue out at me but I just laughed and picked out another one. Mmmm...green apple!

There was a sudden knock on the door of our compartment and a round-faced boy came in looking tearful.

"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?" When they shook their heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"Would you like some help looking for it? I asked politely as I stood up and went over to him.

"Really? You'd help me?" 

"Of course! I'm Katrina by the way. Nice to meet you."

"You too! I'm Neville Longbottom."

"Harry, Ron, I'll be back in a bit!" I said over my shoulder as I exited the compartment. The two of us walked down the train knocking on all the doors but to no avail. Halfway through we were joined by a girl by the name of Hermione Granger. She had bushy brown hair and large front teeth, and seemed a little bossy at times, but I liked her. She was the first girl I had ever met who didn't instantly seem to hate me, so while my standards were a tad low, I was hopeful that she'd be my first girl friend.

"Neville, I'm really sorry we couldn't find your toad! I'm sure Trevor will turn up eventually! But we really should be getting changed into our robes. I expect we'll be arriving soon!" I said pulling Hermione with me so we could gather our stuff and change.

Harry's POV

As I sat talking to Ron, I couldn't help but notice Kat's disappearance. Was it pathetic of me that I already missed her?! She was my first friend...like ever...and I do mean ever...and I kinda thought that maybe I might like her a little more than that but I mean, we're only eleven, and that's stuff older people have to worry about! 

I sat and listened as Ron filled me in on the Gringotts Break in. I found it highly suspicious and couldn't wait to tell Kat about it.

I turned this news over in my mind. I was starting to get a prickle of fear every time You- Know-Who was mentioned - it had been a lot more comfortable saying "Voldemort" without worrying... 

A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately." My stomach lurched with nerves and Ron, I saw, looked pale under his freckles. We crammed our pockets with the last of the sweets and joined the crowd thronging the corridor.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry, Kat?" Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads."I looked over and saw that Katrina had joined me along with some other girl with bushy brown hair who Kat told me was named Hermione.

"C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs'years follow me!" Slipping and stumbling, we followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. I clutched Kat's hand as we helped each other climb down the slope. 

She slipped a few times, but I made sure that I was always there to catch her. I tried not to think too hard about how her body fit perfectly into my arms though.

"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here." There was a loud "Oooooh!" as we finally got our first glance of the castle. 

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Kat, Ron, Hermione and I all got into a boat together. 

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then - FORWARD!" And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; we all bent our heads and the little boats carried us through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. We were then carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking us right underneath the castle, until we reached a kind of underground harbor, where we clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them."Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. 

I saw Kat glance over at the boy and give him a thumbs up for finally finding his animal. Aww, she was so sweet! How did I get so lucky to have a friend like her?

We walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, Oakfront door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?" Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door. I looked over at Kat and wiggled my brows and smiled as she giggled. I loved it when I could make her giggle. She was so cute. Wait did I really just think that? I shook my head and focused on the door. This was the moment we'd been waiting for all day.


	6. The Sorting

Katrina's POV

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. 

"Minnie!" I exclaimed, before realizing this might not be the time for nicknames. I covered my face with my hands as I blushed scarlet. I heard a soft chuckle and slowly peaked out from the spaces between my fingers. She had a very stern expression on her face, but her eyes twinkled at me as she struggled to maintain her composure. 

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole orphanage in it and I stared around me with wide eyes in complete and utter awe. This place was amazing, and we had only seen the entrance! I couldn't begin to imagine what the rest of the place must be like.

We followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. I could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right. The rest of the school must already be there but Professor McGonagall ushered us first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. 

We crowded in, standing rather closer together than we would usually have done, peering about nervously. 

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. I noticed Harry nervously trying to flatten his hair and thought he was fighting a lost battle. 

I mean seriously, the dudes hair had not laid flat for him since the first day I met him in Diagon Alley. I was starting to think that it would permanently look that way and I would bet 10 galleons that there was nothing he was ever going to be able to do to tame it. And chances were, I would win that bet twice over!

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall."Please wait quietly." She left the chamber.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" I asked Ron.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking." My heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? In front of the whole school? 

Merlin's grey beard! I didn't know any magic yet! All I had been able to do was light fires, create floods, gusts of wind, and bright light. What good was any of that going to do me! I hadn't even MEANT to do any of that, it had just happened on it's own without my knowledge or consent!

Then something happened that made me  jump about a foot in the air and several people behind me scream.

"What the...?" I gasped. So did the people around me. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at us. They seemed to be arguing about some poltergeist named Peeves.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?" A few people nodded mutely." Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know." 

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." Minnie had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall. "Now, form a line," she told us, "and follow me." 

Harry and I got into line behind a boy with sandy hair, with Ron behind us, as we walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall. 

I felt my jaw drop as a stared around with wide-eyes. Four long tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Minnie led us up through the center until we came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind us. 

The hundreds of faces staring at me looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, I looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. I nudged Harry and whispered, "Its bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History." 

Hermione looked over at me as I said this.

"Really? I thought I was the only one who read that book! Everyone else I talked to on the train had no idea what I was talking about!"

I smiled at Hermione.

"Well now you know at least one other person who has read it, Mione." It was also nice to know that I wasn't the only one who had read up on Hogwarts. I hadn't finished the book yet or I might have known exactly how we were to be sorted, but hey, we couldn't all be perfect! That book was super thick, and I had been mainly focused on learning my assigned reading first and foremost. Have I mentioned how much of an uber nerd I am?

I quickly looked down again as Prof. McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of us. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, so I continued to stare at it too, unsure of what was supposed to be happening.

For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and the hat began to sing...

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again. 

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" I heard Ron whisper to Harry. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll." I smiled weakly. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, but I wish we could have tried it on without everyone watching. Have I mentioned how much I hated being the center of attention! I'm pretty sure I have, but in case the message didn't come across clear the first time - I detest being the focus of people's attention!

Minnie now stepped forward holding a long roll of  parchment."When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. 

"Abbott, Hannah!" 

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat. The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. I saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her. 

"Bones, Susan!" 

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah. 

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!" The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them. 

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but 

"Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; I could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was my imagination, after all we'd heard about Slytherin, but I thought they looked like an unpleasant lot. I was starting to feel definitely sick now. Remembering all the times I was never picked for teams at school and had to watch on the sidelines. Mainly because everyone was scared of what Liza and her cronies would do to them if they expressed any interest in me.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!" 

"HUFFLEPUFF!" I noticed the hat shouted out the house at once in some cases, but at others it took a little while to decide. 

"Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy next to Harry in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor. 

"Granger, Hermione!" Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.   

I shot her a smile and a thumbs up. 

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Ron groaned but I cheered for my new friend. Then a chilling thought came to me. What if I wasn't chosen at all? What if I just sat there with the hat over m eyes for ages, until Minnie jerked it off my head and said there had obviously been a mistake and that I'd better get back on the train and head back to the orphanage?!

When Neville Longbottom was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, 

"GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to 

"MacDougal, Morag." 

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, 

"SLYTHERIN!" Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself. Stupid little ferret. I thought as I glared over at him.

There weren't many people left now. 

"Moon" 

"Nott" 

"Parkinson" then a pair of twin girls, 

"Patil" and "Patil" then 

"Perks, Sally-Anne" and then, 

"Potter, Harry!" As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little  hissing fires all over the hall. 

"Potter, did she say?" "The Harry Potter?" I clenched my hands into fists as I worried over the fate of my friend. The hat was taking a while to decide and it looked like Harry was mouthing, "Not Slytherin, Not Slytherin. I bounced on the balls of my feet as I waited with baited breath.

"GRYFFINDOR!" I heard the shout yell. I high-fived Harry as I cheered him on. I noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet. Percy the Prefect got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, 

"We got Potter! We got Potter!" Minnie waited for the noise to settle before continuing. 

"Thomas, Dean," a black boy even taller than Ron, joined Harry at the Gryffindor table. 

"Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. I crossed his fingers behind my back and a second later the hat had shouted, 

"GRYFFINDOR!" I clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to Harry. 

"Well done, Ron, excellent," I heard Percy Weasley say pompously across Harry as 

"Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin.  Now there was only one person left. Me...Minnie smiled reassuringly to me as she called my name.

"Katrina"

I slowly walked up the steps and carefully sat down on the stool not failing to notice the strange looks I was receiving over my lack of a last name. 

"Hmm," said a small voice in my ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, my goodness, yes...and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting...So where shall I put you? You're so much like your mother and grandfather, but then again, you share your fathers blood and so many of his talents. And yet, even with all the potential for power, you are so very much like a Hufflepuff...and smart as a Raven...hmmm...where to put you, where to put you..." 

I gripped the edges of the stool in anticipation as the hat continued to sift through my brain searching for answers. I sat there, my eyes gazing up at the brim of the hat just waiting...and waiting...and waiting. I don't know how long I sat there, but with each passing minute my face grew redder as my fear came true and soon my eyes were beginning to tear up. I stared furiously at the wall straight ahead, determined not to fall apart in front of this large crowd of strangers. 

After about ten minutes I felt the hat shift and begin to shout. I started to smile, as I waited to hear where I would go.

"HUFFLE...No that's not right" the hat muttered as it stilled again...what? I stared up at Minnie in confusion but it was clear she nor anyone else in the room had ever heard the hat change its mind before halfway through. Whispers broke out all over the hall and I just continued to stare at a tiny spot on the wall. My face was so hot by now that I'm sure I looked redder than a tomato. Another ten minutes went by before I felt the brim open wide again. I sucked in a deep breath...

"RAVENCLA...No , no that's not right either..." Then came the longest pause of them all. I shifted uncomfortably as I heard people start to complain about hunger and boredom. Why me! Why oh why did this have to happen to me of all people?

After what felt like more than half an hour the Hat finally straightened up and began to talk again. I didn't dare react this time, I had a sinking feeling that I was never going to get sorted.

"SLYTHER - I straightened up as I started to hear him shout slytherin. No way was I going to be in the same house as that slimy Malfoy kid! But I had no reason to worry because the hat changed its mind yet again.

"No THAT's not right either your way to much of a Gryffindor to be in Slytherin...girl! What the bloody hell am I supposed to do with you?!" the hat said not bothering to whisper anymore. I could tell that everyone had heard this last comment as whispers and I few laughs broke out amongst the crowd.

At this, I couldn't hold it in any longer and the tears spilled over. My face was tomato red as I tangled my fingers into the material of my cloak. I knew it. I was a certified loser with not enough magic to be worthy of going to Hogwarts. A huge mistake had been made.

"How should I know! You're the one who claims to be this amazing magical hat! That's your job not mine!" I shouted angrily to it as I furiously swiped away at my cheeks. 

"Kat, dear, do you mind giving me a chance to talk to the hat for myself? I'm sure we can get this cleared up soon enough." I heard Minnie say to me as she kindly helped me off the stool and took the hat off my head. Without another word, she placed the hat onto her own head. Her brows furrowed and I could tell that she was having a conversation with it.

The whole hall sat and watched in silence and I just stood there like an idiot not knowing what to do. Suddenly, Minnie whipped the hat off and strode over to where Albus Dumbledore sat. She placed the hat on his head as she leaned down and whispered into his ear.

This was all too much for me. I plopped down onto the top step and knowing full well that every student was watching, burst into tears. This was so embarrassing! What was gonna happen now? Surely I wouldn't be allowed to stay. They clearly had made a mistake about me...

A loud scraping sound filled the hall as Prof. Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat. 

"Let the feast begin" he said beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing strange had just happened. I had looked up when I heard his voice and gasped as I watched the dishes along the tables instantly fill up with food. I had never seen so much to eat on one table before. It all looked amazing, but I couldn't enjoy it like everyone else was. My appetite had disappeared the minute I had put that stupid hat on my head.

I had been rejected...by a hat. Sounds silly, but it felt like my heart had just shattered into a million pieces and I started sobbing again; glad that everyone's attention was focused elsewhere now.  

"Oh my poor Kat! Don't cry, sweetie everything's gonna be ok. I promise." I heard Minnie say as she swept back over to me and lifted me back onto my feet. 

"Am..am I g-g-gonna be sent b-b-back home now..." I stammered sounding worse than Quirrell, who I noticed out of the corner of my eye, staring at me intently once more.

"Of course not Kat! We'll figure this out after dinner, for now just relax and have some food. Here, you can sit next to me and Prof. Snape. How does that sound?" Minnie said soothingly as she walked me over to the staff table and conjured up an extra chair next to one of the professors.

"T-t-thank you, M-Minnie" I managed to gasp out between sobs.

"For you, anything..." I thought I heard her murmur under her breath as she piled food onto my plate for me. I shook my head knowing I had probably heard wrong.

I slowly started to make my way through the plate of carrots, lamb chops, boiled potatoes, and gravy as I managed to stop crying. I took a large gulp from the goblet in front of me and before I knew what was happening, I let out a loud hiccup. I gasped and covered my mouth hoping no one heard. I was not so fortunate, however. I heard a quiet chuckle come from my right.

"Oh, my! I'm so sorry, Professor!" I said mortified as a gazed up at the man in jet black robes sitting next to me.

"No worries, little one!" he said still chuckling under his breath. "It'll be our little secret." It happened so quickly I wasn't sure if I had seen right, but I think he winked at me! I blushed and looked down at my plate. Today was turning out to be just the greatest day ever.  

I still wasn't very hungry but I never wasted food so I steadily ate on until I had finished what was on my plate. I still finished earlier than everyone else and yawned as my body told me it was time for sleep.

Snape's POV

I gazed down at the girl who had just curled herself into me as she fell asleep at the table. My eyes wide as I glanced around, hoping that no one had noticed. I saw the headmaster looking at the two of us with a twinkle in his eyes, but thankfully, he was the only one so far to see what was happening. 

I looked at her and sighed. This reminded me of the old days when she had been younger. Back when my days had been filled with her laughter and the sweet sound of her racing down the deserted halls of the castle. But that had been several years ago, and the girl before my eyes didn't remember a single second of it. My potion had seen to that...

I pulled a few strands of hair away from her face as she snuggled deeper into me. She reminded me so much of her mother. How I wished I had my best friend back. She and Lily had been the only two people to ever truly understand me. I missed them every single day...

 

********************************************

Harry's POV

I was starting to feel warm and sleepy towards the end of the meal and took a break from the conversation. I looked up at the High Table instead. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore and Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. I noticed his left arm was bent oddly and it was only after I stared long enough that my sleep-filled brain registered Kat's small body asleep next to him as his arm wrapped around her protectively. 

Quirrell, I noticed, was once again staring at Kat with a strange look in his eyes and I felt a sudden surge of protectiveness towards my friend and wanted to do nothing but steal her away from the man's watchful gaze.

It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into my eyes...and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on my forehead. 

"Ouch!" I clapped a hand to my head. 

"What is it?" asked Percy. 

"N-nothing." The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling I had gotten from the teacher's look - a feeling that he didn't like me at all. 

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" I asked Percy. I was feeling slightly jealous of the way Kat was curled into his side, wishing that it was me in his place, but I hated to admit that.

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to - everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape." I continued to watch Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at me again. 

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

I laughed at his last announcement; warning*** us to stay away from the third floor corridor unless we had a death wish, but I was one of the few who did. "He's not serious?" I muttered to Percy.

"Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere - the forest is full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least." 

"And now, bedtime. Off you trot!" 

********************************************

It wasn't until later that night as I got into my new four poster bed, that I remembered Katrina. I hadn't seen her leave the Great Hall and I was worried for my best friend. What was going to happen to her?! Would she be allowed to stay at Hogwarts even though the hat had all but refused to sort her into a house? I didn't think I could survive this year without her! I passed out that night, worried thoughts about Katrina's fate lulling me into a troubled sleep.


	7. First Day of Classes

Katrina's POV

I opened my eyes slowly as the morning sun shone through the stained-glass window; blinding me as I looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings.

"Where am I?" I muttered.

"Your room." I heard a voice reply from the right of my bed.

I quickly sat up and looked over, blinking away the sunspots in my eyes.

"Prof. Snape?" I said in surprise. "What are you doing here? and what do you mean, my room?"

"Well, after the students went to bed, Dumbledore and the other Professors talked things over and since you couldn't sleep in any of the house  dormitories, we figured it''d be easier if you just had your own." 

"But that must have been a lot of work! You guys didn't have to do that! I think it's clear that I don't belong here." I said shaking my head and looking down at my bed sheets.

"That is not true, Kat! You deserve to be here more than any of those other twits. Besides, this room was already here, so it wasn't too much work for the house elves to get it ready."

"Really? Who used to live here then? Was he or she rejected by the hat like me?"I said excited that I might not be the only one this had happened to.

"It belonged to the sweetest and brightest little girl I've ever known." said Snape. I looked over and saw that his eyes were watery as he gazed down at me.

"What happened to her?" I asked as I patted him on the shoulder.

"It''s...complicated. and we really should be getting down to the great hall! Hurry up and get changed, I'll wait outside in the outer room and we can walk down together."

I jumped out of bed and rushed to get ready. I couldn't believe I was being allowed to stay! Once I was ready, I opened the door and slowly walked out.

"How-how do I look?" I said nervously to Snape. He turned around and stared down at me.

"You look beautiful." He said quietly. 

"Thanks," I said blushing and looking around the room. It was perfect. There was a set of comfy couches in front of a fire place, a mahogany table and chairs, and a number of other furnishings and decorations. I noticed the Hogwarts seal was plastered everywhere.

"You can change the colors to represent any house you want should you choose to do so." Snape stated as he saw me look around. "Now, shall we get going?" He showed me how to change the password to get into my quarters and then led me down to breakfast in the great hall.

"Thanks so much, for everything!" I gushed as we approached the hall.

"No problem, anything for you," he whispered. There were those words again, but I wasn't sure if I had heard correctly. I mean there was no reason for him or Minnie to care so much about me! I was just any other student in their eyes. One who was clearly not suited for Hogwarts. 

"Here's your schedule, make sure to show up on time!"

I grabbed the slip of paper he handed me and was about to look it over when I noticed Harry, Ron, and Hermione sitting at the Gryffindor table. I ran over to them and sat down. 

"Hey Harry, Ron, Hermione! Do you guys mind if I join you? I know I'm not in your house but your my only friends so far...How did you sleep! I can't believe it's our first day! I'm so excited! I can't wait for classes to start! Do you think there will be a lot of homework?" I rambled as I piled food onto my plate.

Harry chucked and rubbed my back. "Slow down there, Kat. Let's just focus on breakfast for now." 

"As usual, you're right, Harry! mmm" I said as I started to eat some bacon. My face blushed red as Harry kept his hand on my back and I saw Hermione notice this fact as she wiggled her brows at me. I glared at her. She laughed and went back to reading her book.

After we finished eating, we compared class schedules. I squealed as I realized I had the same classes as the other three. 

"Our first class is History of Magic. We should start heading over now so we aren't late!" I told the others as I stood up and grabbed my bag.

The class was taught by a ghost named Professor Binns. Apparently he hadn't noticed when he had died in his sleep and got up the next morning to teach like normal. I could tell the majority of the class found the subject boring and the Professor's voice certainly didn't help, but I remained alert in my chair and scribbled down notes along with Hermione.

Our next class was Transfiguration with Minnie. Hermione and I arrived early but as the class began to fill up, I noticed Harry and Ron still hadn't shown up.

"Where are they?" I said worriedly to Hermione.

Just then Minnie started to speak so she didn't have time to answer. We were copying notes from the board when the door burst open and the two finally arrived.

"Phew, made it! Can you imagine the look on old McGonagall's face if we were late?" Ron exclaimed as they entered the room trying to catch their breath.

Hermione and I shook our heads and continued to write. "Poor Harry and Ron," I giggled silently to myself in anticipation of Minnie's reaction as she shifted from her animal form in front of them.

"That was bloody brilliant!" Ron gasped in amazement.

"Why thank you for that assessment Mr. Weasley" She said glaring down at them. "Perhaps it would be more useful if I were to transfigure Potter and yourself into a pocket watch? That way one of you might be on time."

"We got lost," I heard Harry mutter in embarrassment.

"Then perhaps, a map." Minnie said sternly. I couldn't help but chuckle a little louder. Minnie glanced my way, the corner of her lips tugging into a small smile. "I trust you don't need one to find your seats," she said turning back to face Harry and Ron again.

"No, ma'am" they whispered quietly as they came over to sit in the only empty seats besides Hermione and I.

The rest of the lesson went by without a hitch as we continued to copy down notes from the board. Halfway through the lesson we were then given matches that we had to try and turn into needles. I nervously waved my wand and said the incantation. To my surprise, my match immediately turned silver. I grinned widely at Minnie.

"5 points to...oh dear...well I guess I'll have to talk to Dumbledore to figure out how points will be awarded to you, Katrina. But I see Ms. Granger has also managed to transfigure her match so 5 points to Gryffindor all the same." 

********************************************

"You two should have seen your faces!" I said bursting into laughter as we headed out the door at the end of class. 

"Oh, shut it!" said Harry blushing. "We aren't the only ones having trouble finding our way!"

"Yeah, I bet you won't be laughing when it's your turn!" Ron muttered angrily. I shook my head and continued to giggle as we walked to our next class; Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was the class we had all been looking forward to the most but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair though as he spent the entire class staring at me. What was this dude's problem! What the hell did he find so bloody fascinating with me! I was really starting to get irritated. Harry glanced over at me and wrapped his arm protectively over my shoulder and with a glare over at Hermione, who was once again wiggling her eyebrows, I leaned into Harry and away from Quirrell.

I breathed a heavy sigh of relief when the class was finally over.

As classes continued, Harry and I were relieved to find that we weren't miles behind everyone. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like us, hadn't had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn't have much of a head start.

********************************************

"Congrats!" I said applauding Harry and Ron at breakfast on Friday. "You two finally managed to find your way without getting lost." They both glared at me as they shoveled down food but I could tell they weren't actually mad so I wasn't worried. 

"What have we got today?" Harry asked Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge. 

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Ron. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them - we'll be able to see if it's true." 

"Wish McGonagall favored us," said Harry. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor House, but it hadn't stopped her from giving them a huge pile of homework the day before. I rolled my eyes and continued to skim my potions book in preparation for our lesson. I liked Minnie, and Snape seemed nice enough from what I had gathered in our few encounters. At least he had been nothing but nice to me, and that's all that I cared about for the time being.

Just then, the mail arrived and we all looked up. Harry and I watched in surprise as Hedwig and Salazar came swooping down to drop two letters in front of us. We looked at each other, we never got mail! We pushed aside our plates and quickly opened the envelopes. The letters were roughly the same.

Dear Katrina,

I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Salazar. 

Hagrid  

 

I pulled out my quill and scribbled a quick reply that I then gave to Salazar to deliver. The four of us then made or way down to the dungeons where Potions classes took place. 

I shivered as we entered the classroom. It was colder down here than any other part of the castle and the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls didn't help matters. I felt Harry's arm wrap around my shoulder as we sat down at one of the desks and I smiled at him appreciatively. He always seemed to know what to do in order to make me feel better!

Snape, like many other professors had done, started class off by taking roll call. Like Professor Flitwick who taught Charms, he paused when he reached Harry's name. His reaction however, was very different. 

I had also noticed how to teachers would pause at my name and then get very strange looks on their faces, but it was unclear as to why this was.

"Ah, Yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new...celebrity." I could hear Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggering behind their hands and turned in my seat to glare at them. They closed their mouths and I returned to face forward in triumph. Snape paused a second time when he reached my name, but didn't say anything. 

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began as he looked up at the class. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but I caught every word. Like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." 

More silence followed this little speech. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Harry and Ron exchange raised eyebrows, but Hermione and I both sat on the edges of our seats; eager to start proving we weren't dunderheads. 

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" 

Harry glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was; Hermione's hand shot into the air. 

"I don't know, sir," said Harry. Snape's lips curled into a sneer. 

"Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything."He ignored Hermione's raised hand. 

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but I could tell Harry didn't have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. Behind us, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, were shaking with laughter and I glared at them again. 

Seriously, someone was going to have to hold me back very soon, otherwise I fear I may just punch them very hard in their smug little faces! 

"I don't know, sir." 

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" I knew for a fact that Harry had looked through his books at the Dursleys'. I frowned, it was a little unfair for Snape to expect him to remember everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi! 

Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand. 

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?" I laughed as Harry caught my eye. Snape, however, was not pleased. 

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "Katrina, would you please explain the answers."

My head shot up and I looked at him in shock. I hated being put on the spot like that...and how did he even know whether or not I knew the answers? For all anyone knew, I was as clueless as Harry! While Hermione and I had reviewed at breakfast, I still wished he had called on her.

"Umm...I think asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death...A bezoar is a...a stone taken from the stomach of a goat that will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfs bane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite." I answered, my voice shaking under all the stares I was getting. Again, I will state how much I despise being the center of attention!

"Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?" Snape snarled to the rest of the class, though there was warmth in his eyes as he glanced at me. There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise,Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter." 

We all began to copy the information down but I'd only gotten halfway through when I noticed someone standing in front of me. I looked up to see Snape's form hovering over me. Suddenly he began rattling off a list of questions that he clearly wanted me to answer. 

"What are the 3 most crucial  ingredients in a forgetfulness potion, how long does it take to brew the polyjuice potion, why should Felix Felices not be taken in excess, what is veritiserum used for?" I gulped and stared at him. Did he honestly expect me to know the answers? Those were definitely not mentioned anywhere in our textbook! Before I could register what was happening, I felt my mouth open and form words.

"See, Potter. That is what a good student looks like," he said as he smirked at Harry before striding off to praise Malfoy's work. 

I gazed at Harry with wide eyes. "I didn't even know I knew any of that information! I swear it wasn't in any of the books I've read." I said pleading with him. "I wasn't trying to make you look bad! Honest."

"I know, Kat. You would never do something so mean. I just don't get why he was picking on me!" 

"It was so unfair! He better not make a habit out of it or I'll have something to say!" I said as we split up into pairs and got ready to make a simple potion to cure boils. I was starting to get angry again as I thought of the way Snape had treated Harry. Harry simply grinned and put a hand on my shoulder. 

"Calm down, let's just focus on making this potion." 

Snape's POV

I couldn't help but smile inwardly as Katrina rattled off the answer's to my questions. She had always been such a smart girl growing up and I was glad to see that even though she didn't remember anything that had happened before the age of five, she had not lost her talent for studying hard and being the smartest witch in the room. 

Katrina's POV

Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors though as the Potions lesson continued. Snape swept around in his long black cloak,watching us weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy and I, whom he seemed to favor. Since I was paired with Harry, he simply ignored us and told everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs.

Suddenly, clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor,burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs. 

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?" Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose. I shook my head feeling sorry for him.

"I'd be happy to take him up to the hospital wing, Professor." I said as I skipped my way over to where Neville stood. Snape nodded and the two of us headed for the doors. As I was exiting, we heard him yell at Harry and Ron. He was taking another point away from Gryffindor, blaming Harry for not warning Neville not to add the porcupine quills.

This was so unfair that I opened my mouth and turned back to argue, but Neville let out a loud groan and I decided it was best to get him to the hospital wing pronto.   

"Oh, my! What happened!" the nurse Madam Pomfrey exclaimed as Neville and I entered. 

"There was an accident in potions class, ma'am" I said as I helped Neville to one of the beds so he could sit down. "We were making a cure for boils and he made a mistake with the porcupine quills."

"Ahh, I see. Yes, yes, a common mistake, see it all the time. Not to worry, not to worry, easy enough to fix." she said hurrying into her office and reemerging with a bottle of cream. 

Madam Pomfrey drew the curtains around the bed to give him privacy and I stood with my back to it as Neville rubbed the cream all over his skin. After about ten minutes or so I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around.

"All set," he mumbled, blushing. 

"Really, Neville. There's no need to be embarrassed. Didn't you hear Madam Pomfrey? You're not the only one who's messed up on that potion before. It could have happened to anyone." I said reassuringly.

"Yeah, but it happened to me," I heard him mutter under his breath. 

"C'mon, let's meet up with the others for dinner. You'll feel better once you've had something to eat," I said hugging him and leading the way back down to the great hall.

********************************************

"How was Hagrid's?" I asked Harry as I piled my plate with food. Since I had been preoccupied with helping Neville after class, I had missed going down to Hagrid's hut to catch up. 

"It was great. But...listen, there's something I need to tell you." I looked up at the sudden change in his tone.

"What's up?" 

"Remember that day we went to Gringotts? Apparently, later that same day someone tried to rob it!"

"Really?" I said shocked.

"Yeah! The weird thing is, they weren't caught, and nothing was found missing! I asked Hagrid about it and he got really weird. I think the person was after whatever was in the vault we visited!"

"Hmm...it definitely seems like it...we need more information." I said thinking this new information over. It did seem a little too strange to be a coincidence. I finished my meal, hugged everyone goodnight, and walked back to my room; my mind focused on the mysterious small package we had watched Hagrid scoop up.


	8. Flying Lessons

Katrina's POV

"Typical," said Harry darkly as we sat eating breakfast at the Gryffindor table on Thursday. 

"Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy." we had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else and neither of us liked the idea of having to share the experience with the Slytherines. While Malfoy and his cronies usually left me alone, I didn't like the way they treated my friends. Plus, Malfoy stared at me just as creepily as Professor Quirrell. What was with all the staring! I couldn't possibly be THAT fascinating!

"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," said Ron reasonably. "Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk."   

 

"Yeah, Ron's right, Harry. Don't focus on Malfoy. We shouldn't let him ruin our good mood!" I said eating my way through a plate of scrambled eggs. I paused as I realized what I said.

"Wow, never thought the day would come when Ron would be right!" 

"Heyyyy!" Ron looked disgruntled but I just smiled and offered him a bit of my eggs as an apology. He took it no questions asked. Lol, that doofus really loved his food.

"Kat, you're always in a good mood, but I suppose you're right," Harry said chuckling as he hugged me. 

"Harry, Harry, Harry. Haven't you learned by now, I'm always right!" I said grinning widely.

We all looked up as owls soared into the hall. A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed us a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke. 

"It's a Remembrall!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things - this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red - oh..." His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet,"You've forgotten something..." 

Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Draco Malfoy,who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand. Harry, Ron, and I jumped to our feet but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash. 

"What's going on?" 

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table. Damn, I really wanted an excuse to punch him in the face!

"Just looking," he said, and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him. 

At three-thirty that afternoon, Harry and I, along with the other Gryffindors, hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for our first flying lesson.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. The teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived as we approached the brooms. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk. 

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up." I glanced down at my broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles."Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!"' 

"UP" everyone shouted. I had barely even thought the word "up" in my head before my brook had rocketed itself into my hand, but it was one of the few that did. Hermione's had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. I Laughed as Ron's smacked him in the face. He glared at me. I stuck my tongue out at him.

Madam Hooch then showed us how to mount the brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting our grips. I giggled in delight when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years. The pompous git! He'd been boasting all week about how great he was at flying. It was nice to see his ego knocked down a few sizes.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle - three - two -" 

But Neville pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch'slips. 

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle - twelve feet - twenty feet...till suddenly he slipped sideways off the broom and -WHAM - a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay face down on the grass in a heap. 

Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his."Broken wrist," I heard her mutter. "Come on, boy - it's all right, up you get." She turned to the rest of the class." None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear." Madam Hooch lead Neville off the field and towards Madam Pomfrey's hospital wing.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter. "Did you see his face, the great lump?" The other Slytherins joined in. 

"Shut up, Malfoy," I snapped angrily. 

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Katrina." I felt arms wrap around me as I was about to go over and punch her. I glared back at Harry. He better not try and stop me!

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him. "The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up. 

"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly as he continued to hold me back. Everyone stopped talking to watch. Malfoy smiled nastily. Man, do I want to knock him on his smug little ass!

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find - how about -up a tree?" 

"Give it here!" I yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well. "Come and get it, you two!" 

Harry and I grabbed our brooms.

"No!" shouted Hermione. "Madam Hooch told us not to move - you'll get us all into trouble." We ignored her. I wanted nothing more than to knock Malfoy off his broom and watch him fall off and hit the ground hard! Did that make me a bad person? I hope not!

I kicked hard against the ground and up, up, up I soared; air rushed through my hair, and my robes whipped out behind me...

I pulled the broomstick up a little to take it even higher, and heard screams and gasps of the students back on the ground and an admiring whoop from Ron. Harry and I turned our broomsticks sharply to face Malfoy in midair. 

Malfoy looked stunned. "You better hand that over, Malfoy!" I shouted angrily. I didn't know it, but my eyes were flashing red. 

"Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried. I leaned forward and my broom shot toward Malfoy like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; and I made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady. Damn, I missed. Oh, well. Second time's the charm!

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," I heard Harry shout. The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy. 

"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air. I dashed after it and caught it, enjoying the wide look of shock on his face. The next thing I knew, he was coming straight at me and I tore off in the opposite direction. 

Holy, crap! I swerved and dived away from him, scared to death that it was going to be me who fell off my broom. Ok, maybe Harry and I hadn't really thought this one out very well! I didn't wanna die so soon! There were so many spells I wanted to learn first! And I still needed to find an excuse to punch Malfoy in the face! If I didn't, I was definitely going to come back as a ghost and haunt him for the rest of his life!

"Harry, catch!" I shouted as I tossed the ball in his direction and avoided Malfoy. He gave up and streaked back towards the ground as I saw Harry's hand reach out and grasp the tiny ball a foot from the ground. I pointed my own broom downwards and sighed in relief when my toes finally touched back down on the grass.

"HARRY POTTER! KATRINA!" My heart sank faster than I'd just dived. Professor McGonagall was running toward us. Harry extended a helpful arm as we got to our feet, trembling. 

I managed to smile at him in thanks, but my face went white with fear as Minnie stormed over to us. Scratch that earlier thought, I'm definitely coming back as a ghost and haunting Harry for coming up with the stupid idea of disobeying the rules!

"Never - in all my time at Hogwarts..." Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, "...how dare you - might have broken your neck..." 

"It wasn't his fault, Professor -" 

"Be quiet, Miss Patil"

"But Malfoy -" 

"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, Katrina, follow me, now." I caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle's triumphant faces as we left, walking numbly in Professor McGonagall's wake as she strode toward the castle. We were going to be expelled, I just knew it. I wanted to say something to defend ourselves, but I couldn't force the words out. 

Instead, I got my revenge on Malfoy by sticking my leg out as I walked by him. The stupid git fell flat on his face in the mud. If I was going to be kicked out of Hogwarts, the least I could do was take Malfoy down first! Hehe.

Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at us; we had to jog to keep up. Now I'd done it. I hadn't even lasted two weeks. I'd be packing my bags in ten minutes. 

What would the they say at the Orphanage when I turned up months early? Would I even be allowed back? If I knew Liza, she had taken over my room the minute I had left and I doubt she would be very accommodating if I came back. That girl could make even the sun shining an excuse to bully me!

Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside. 

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?" Wood? I thought, bewildered; was Wood a cane she was going to use on us? But Wood turned out to be a person, a burly fifth-year boy who came out of Flitwick's class looking confused. 

"Follow me, you three," said Professor McGonagall, and we marched on up the corridor, Wood looking curiously at Harry and I. "In here." Professor McGonagall ushered us into an empty classroom.

"Potter, Katrina, this is Oliver Wood. Wood - I've found you a Seeker and a Chaser. "Wood's expression changed from puzzlement to delight. 

"Are you serious, Professor?"

"Absolutely," said Professor McGonagall crisply. "They're naturals. I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter, Katrina?" We both nodded silently. Neither of us had a clue what was going on, but we didn't seem to be getting expelled.

"She dodged and weaved her way around that boy like it was nothing and made a pass with incredible accuracy while traveling at high speed and he caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive," Professor McGonagall told Wood. "Didn't even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it." Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once. 

"Ever seen a game of Quidditch, you two?" he asked excitedly. 

"Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team," Professor McGonagall explained. 

"He's just the build for a Seeker, too," said Wood, now walking around Harry and staring at him. "Light - speedy - we'll have to get them decent brooms, Professor - a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven,I'd say." 

"Wait, but...am I even allowed on the team...I mean I'd love to! But, I'm not exactly a Gryffindor..." I said sadly as I hung my head in shame. 

I wished so badly that I was. But that idiotic hat had refused to sort me. Did I sound bitter? No? Well damn, because let me assure you, I'M BITTER about it! As if I needed any more reasons to appear as an outcast! If it wasn't for Harry and Ron, my only friend would be Hermione. Though I think me and Neville were starting to bond. He seemed like a really nice kid. Clumsy, but sweet.

"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule and whether you can be allowed to play Katrina. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Snape in the face for weeks...." 

Professor McGonagall peered sternly over her glasses at Harry and I. "I want to hear you're training hard, or I may change my mind about punishing you two." Then she suddenly smiled. "Your parents would have been proud," she said. "Your father, Potter was an excellent Quidditch player himself and so was your mother, Katrina."   

"Y-y-you knew my mother?" I stammered in surprise.

"Yes...yes I did..." But she didn't say anything else and I could tell I wasn't going to get much more of an answer. With that, Minnie swept off leaving the three of us alone. 

I can't believe she knew my mother! Had they been friends or had she taught her when she was in school. If so, did that mean all the other teachers had known my mother as well! It seemed like there was something that everyone was keeping from me!

********************************************

"You're joking." 

It was dinnertime. Harry had just finished telling Ron what had happened when we'd left the grounds with Professor McGonagall. Ron had a piece of steak and kidney pie halfway to his mouth, but he'd forgotten all about it. 

I laughed. I mean, come on, who wouldn't. The red head looked like a complete fool! Granted, he always did in my opinion. Damn, was that another mean thing to say? I'm still new to this whole, "having friends," thing so I'm not sure exactly what thoughts are ok to think and what aren't.

"Seeker? Chaser?" he said. "But first years never - you two must be the youngest house players..."

"... in about a century," said Harry, shoveling pie into his mouth. What was with these two boys and piling wayyy too much food into their mouths?! Was this a typical boy thing? Or just a Harry and Ron thing? The orphanage had strictly only taken in girls so I wouldn't know.

"Wood told us. and they said there was no rule banning Katrina from playing so she's allowed on the team!" 

Ron was so amazed, so impressed, he just sat and gaped at us. He looked like  
a guppy fish and I couldn't help but laugh.

"We start training next week," said Harry. "Only don't tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret." 

Fred and George Weasley now came into the hall, spotted Harry and I, and hurried over. "Well done," said George in a low voice. "Wood told us. We're on the team too - Beaters." George explained at my questioning look. 

I looked at them with wide eyes. What the bloody hell was a beater?! It didn't sound like anything positive!

"You two must be good, Wood was almost skipping when he told us. Anyway, we've got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school."

Fred and George had hardly disappeared when someone far less welcome turned up: Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. 

"Having a last meal, Potter, Katrina? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?" 

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Harry coolly. There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl. 

"Yeah, you already forget that face full of dirt I made you eat earlier!" I said growling at the blonde boy. "I'd be happy to give you another serving!" 

"I'd take you on anytime on my own, Potter" said Malfoy. "Tonight, if you want.Wizard's duel. Wands only - no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?" 

"Of course he has," said Ron, wheeling around. "I'm his second, who's yours?" 

"Crabbe," he said. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked." When Malfoy had gone, we all looked at each other.

"What is a wizard's duel?" said Harry and I at the same time. I elbowed him and whispered, "Jinx" and he gave me a quick grin before returning to look at Ron. "And what do you mean, you're my second?" 

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on our faces, he added quickly, "But people only die in proper duels, you know,with real wizards."

"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?" 

"Throw it away and punch him on the nose," Ron suggested. I giggled at the mental image. I hopped up and down hoping that I would be able to do the honors if it came to it! 

"Excuse me." We all looked up. It was Hermione. 

"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" said Ron. I kicked him under the table. Why was he always so rude to her! She was my only girl friend. I couldn't have him drive her away!

"Ron, don't be rude!"  Hermione ignored him, smiled in appreciation to me, and spoke to Harry. 

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying -" 

"Bet you could," Ron muttered and I kicked him again. That boy was going to have permanently red shins around me if he kept this trend up...

"-and you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you." 

"And it's really none of your business," said Harry. 

"Good-bye," said Ron.  

Hermione stormed off as I turned to look at Harry and Ron. "That was really mean, you two. She was just trying to look out for you, besides...she does have a point. It's really risky..." I said.

"Oh, not you too, Katrina." Ron groaned as he rolled his eyes.

"We'll be fine, Kat, don't worry." Harry said trying to reassure me but I wasn't quite convinced. 

"Well, I'm going to go check up on Neville and see if he's ok." I said as I stood up. "See you too later...be careful!" I added as an afterthought. I grabbed the remembrall and headed off towards the hospital wing to return it to Neville.


	9. Meeting Fluffy

Katrina's POV

I was walking Neville back to the Gryffindor common room when we heard arguing.

"Shut up, both of you, I heard something." An angry voice whispered above the others.

"Harry?" I asked as Neville and I rounded the corner. Sure enough, there stood Harry glaring angrily at Ron and Hermione, who were staring furiously at one another.

"How's your arm?" said Harry to Neville in order to break the tension. 

"Fine," said Neville, showing them. "Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute." 

"Good - well, look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere, we'll see you later -" 

"You're going through with the duel?" I asked surprised. I was hoping they'd have come to their senses by now. 

Ron looked at his watch and then glared furiously at Hermione, Neville, and I. "If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about, and used it on you." Hermione opened her mouth, perhaps to tell Ron exactly how to use the Curse of the Bogies, but Harry hissed at her to be quiet and beckoned us all forward. 

We made our way along the corridors but at every turn I expected to run into Filch or Mrs.Norris, but we were lucky. We sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed toward the trophy room. Malfoy and Crabbe weren't there yet. I felt a sense of foreboding wash over me. Something felt wrong. 

Harry and I took out our wands in case Malfoy leapt in and started at once. The minutes crept by and still nothing. I was starting to think that Hermione had been right this was just one big set up to get Harry into trouble. When I see that git, I am definitely punching him in the face...several times!

"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered. Then a noise in the next room made us jump. 

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner." It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris. Horror-struck, Harry waved madly at us to follow him as quickly as possible; we scurried silently toward the door, away from Filch's voice. 

"This way!" Harry mouthed to us and, petrified, we all began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armor. We could hear Filch getting nearer. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run - tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist, and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armor. The clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle. Idiots! 

"RUN!" Harry and I yelled.

Somehow, we found ourselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near the Charms classroom, which I knew was miles from the trophy room. 

"I think we've lost him," Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead. Neville was bent double, wheezing and spluttering.

"I - told -you," Hermione gasped, clutching at the stitch in her chest,"I - told - you." 

It was true...she had. Ugh, if only I had stayed back and convinced Harry and Ron not to go! But, I mean, someone had to return Neville's property and make sure that he was alright...right?!

"We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower," said Ron, "quickly as possible." 

"Malfoy tricked you," Hermione said to Harry. "You realize that, don't you? He was never going to meet you - Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off." 

I had guessed the same, but figured Harry probably felt bad enough without us rubbing it in his face. 

"Let's go." I said, trying to avoid another argument. Harry, Ron, and Hermione couldn't last more than ten minutes in the same room without some sort of argument breaking out, and this was definitely NOT the place for another squabble to break out!

We hadn't gone more than a few paces when we ran into Peeves. And Ron being the doofus that he is, managed to tick him off and set him off yelling about students being out of bed! For a second there, I wanted to punch Ron not Malfoy. Peeves, for some bizarre reason, seemed to like me more than the other students, and if Ron had let ME talk to him, we could probably have avoided an altercation. It was weird. It was almost as if Peeves knew me from before when I was younger but there was no way that was possible. He seemed to know me fairly well though - and I'll admit I thought it was kind of fun to help him prank sometimes. 

Ducking under Peeves, we ran for our lives, right to the end of the corridor where we slammed into a door - and it was locked. 

"This is it!" Ron moaned, as we pushed helplessly at the door, "We're done for! This is the end!" We could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could toward Peeves's shouts. 

Suddenly a word popped into my head out of nowhere. I tapped the lock and whispered, "Alohomora". The lock clicked and the door swung open, we piled through it, shut it quickly, and pressed our ears against it, listening. 

I paused...where the hell had that spell come from?! I didn't recall reading it in my textbook and I couldn't think of anywhere else that I would have come across it!

As we heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage and couldn't hep but giggle. Peeves could be annoying, but he also cracked me up sometimes. Hence why I helped him prank the other students. And after what Malfoy had just done to us, I was definitely going to have a chat with Peeves about getting revenge on Malfoy. I couldn't wait to see what Peeves would do!

"He thinks this door is locked," Harry whispered. 

"Yeah, Harry's right, I think we'll be okay - what Neville!" For Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of my robe for the last minute.

I turned around - and saw, quite clearly, what. For a moment, I was sure I'd walked into a nightmare - this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far. We weren't in a room, as we had supposed. We were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now we knew why it was forbidden. 

I was looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. I knew that the only reason we weren't already dead was that our sudden appearance had taken it by surprise.

Harry opened the door and we fell backward. I was still frozen in shock. 

"Kat!" I head a voice say as arms wrapped around me and tugged me back through the door. 

I looked up into Harry's worried eyes. "Thanks," I murmured, blushing. I couldn't believe I'd just stood there like an idiot! I'd be dead if it wasn't for Harry!

Together we slammed the door shut, and ran back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for us somewhere else, because we didn't see him anywhere, but none of us cared - all we wanted to do was put as much space as possible between us and that monster. 

We didn't stop running until we reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor. 

"Where on earth have you all been?" she asked, looking at our robes hanging off our shoulders and our flushed, sweaty faces. 

"Never mind that - pig snout, pig snout," panted Harry, and the portrait swung forward. We scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into armchairs. 

"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" said Ron finally. "If any dog needs exercise, that one does." 

Hermione had got both her breath and her bad temper back again. "You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" she snapped. "Didn't you see what it was standing on."

"The floor?" Harry suggested. 

"I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads." Ron said furiously.

"It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something." I explained to them with a sigh as Hermione stood up, glaring at everyone. I could sense another argument coming on. Every ten minutes...hadn't I said? Ugh.

"I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed - or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed." 

Ron stared after her, his mouth open."No, we don't mind," he said. "You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you." 

"Ron! I said punching his shoulder, not that he noticed. How did he not notice that? Was I just that weak at punching? I'd have to really practice if I wanted to make Malfoy hurt then...though I really liked the sound of using him for target practice!

I turned to Harry instead. "Do you remember what Hagrid said about Gringotts being the safest place in the world for something you wanted to hide except for Hogwarts? What if that thing is guarding the grubby little package from vault seven hundred and thirteen?" I watched as Harry thought about what I had said.

"Yeah, I think you're right, Kat. I really wish we knew what it was!"

"I know, me too! But I don't think it's really any of our concern, Harry. Do you realize how bad things could have turned out tonight? I think we should just lay low for now...um...do you think anyone would mind if I crashed on the couch? I don't feel like risking the trip back to my room!" I shivered at the thought.

"Of course not! Let me go get a blanket for you!" He quickly stood up and I watched as he disappeared up the stairs. I got up and moved to the couch closest to the fire and laid down. I stared into the flames and drifted off to sleep.

Harry's POV

I grabbed an extra blanket and headed back downstairs. "Here you go, Kat," I whispered as I walked back into the common room. I stared around not seeing her anywhere. I felt my pulse quicken as I began to worry. 

A slight movement near the fire caught my eye and I hurried over. I smiled as I looked down at Kat. She looked so peaceful when she was asleep. The light from the fireplace lit her face up and I couldn't help but notice how cute she looked. 

I gently laid the blanket over her and was just about to leave when a hand grabbed mine.

"Harry, please don't leave. I don't want to be alone tonight." As I looked into the depths of her stormy blue eyes, I found myself speechless. She stood up and I crawled onto the couch and swept the blanket over us as she snuggled into me.

"I'll never leave you," I whispered into her hair as I hugged her tightly. 

"Nor I, you." She said sleepily. "Best friends for life," I heard her murmur as she lazily lifted up a pinky.

I chuckled and twisted my own around hers. "Best friends for life," and with that we both fell asleep.


	10. The Rules of the Game

Katrina's POV

"Awww...Georgy, look at how cute they are!"

"Should we wake them up or let em sleep?"

"Wake them up of course! But first..."

I shifted around as I slowly woke up. Before I could open my eyes, however, I heard a loud click and a bright flash of light hit my closed eyelids. I groaned as I sat up and blinked my eyes groggily.

"Mornin, sunshine!" I looked up to see Fred and George grinning merrily down at me.

"What-what's up g-guys?" I said yawning widely. They laughed at me.

"Not much, just thought we'd wake the sleeping princess before she was late to class." I blushed at the nickname and rubbed my eyes. 

"What time is it?"

"I'd say about 8:30ish," Fred replied. I squealed in shock.

"Oh my gawd, I can't believe I slept in so late!" I cried. Something shifted behind me.

"Huh? I'm up, what's going on? What's wrong?" I heard Harry shout as he struggled to sit up next to me.

I looked at the twins and we all burst out laughing at the expression on Harry's sleepy face. 

"Nothin, mate. The princess was just having a tantrum is all." I grabbed one of the couch cushions and whacked George in the face.

"George Weasley, I was NOT having a tantrum!' I shouted as I felt my face redden. There was a pause as we all realized what I'd done. Then we all burst out laughing again this time with Harry joining in.

"C'mon Harry! We're gonna be late if we don't hurry up and get ready!" I shouted as I yanked him from the couch and shoved him to the stairs to the boys dormitories. "I'll see you at breakfast!" I cried as I pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and clambered out. 

********************************************

"oohhh...look at Malfoy's face!" I giggled as Harry, Ron, and I walked into the great hall for breakfast. Malfoy's jaw had dropped as he saw that we were still here. As an added bonus, I had stopped to talk to Peeves on my way down to the Great Hall and gave him a few suggestions on how to prank Malfoy and I couldn't wait to see which one he chose to do. My particular favorite was my suggestion that he follow Malfoy around all day tossing water balloons at him so that he spent the day drenched to the bone. It looked like he'd gone for the, "jumping out of a plate of scrambled eggs and scaring him" plan though, which was still funny to watch. Maybe he'd use my water balloon idea some other time then? 

"ya know, it was almost worth getting eaten by a giant three-headed dog, just to see that ole' git's face" Ron chuckled as we sat down and began to eat. 

As the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, our attention was caught at once by two long, thin packages carried by twelve large screech owls. I was just as amazed as Harry  when the owls soared down and dropped the parcels in front of us, knocking my bacon to the floor. No, not the bacon! I shook my head, what a shame, it was a good thing there was more!

Luckily, Harry and I ripped open the letters first because it said not to open them since they contained broomsticks. Minnie was telling us to meet Oliver Wood at 7 o'clock on the Quidditch field for our first practice session. I looked over at her and smiled my appreciation for the kind gesture. The broomsticks must have been expensive. Other than Salazar, it was the only - and best, gift that anyone had ever given me. She smiled kindly down at me before turning to continue her conversation with Professor Sprout.

I bounced up and down in my seat barely containing my glee. 

"Nimbus Two Thousands!" Ron moaned enviously. "I've never even touched one." We left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomsticks in private before our first class, but halfway across the entrance hall I found the way upstairs barred by Crabbe and Goyle. 

Malfoy seized the package from my hands and felt it. "That's a broomstick," he said, throwing it back to me with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face. "You'll be in for it this time, Potter, Katrina. First years aren't allowed them." Ron couldn't resist himself and started teasing Malfoy about his own broomstick and how it paled in comparison to mine and Harry's. I mentally groaned, knowing Malfoy wouldn't like this - but then again, I probably would have done the same thing in Ron's place, so I wasn't one to talk!

As expected, Malfoy had something snarky and mean to say back. Before Ron could answer or I could punch Malfoy, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow. 

"Not arguing, I hope, boys....and girl?" he squeaked. 

"Potter and Katrina have been sent broomsticks, Professor," said Malfoy quickly. 

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry and I. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances. And what model is it?" 

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," said Harry, as I was fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy's face. "And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that we've got them," he added. We headed upstairs and got ready for class, smothering our laughter at Malfoy's obvious rage and confusion. 

********************************************

As seven o'clock drew nearer, Harry and I left the castle and set off in the dusk toward the Quidditch field. 

"I'm so excited, Harry!" I squealed as we made our way to the stadium. 

My jaw dropped as we stepped onto the field. I had never been inside the stadium before. It was really a sight to see! At either end of the field were three golden poles with hoops on the end. They reminded me of the little plastic sticks Muggle children blew bubbles through, except that they were fifty feet high.  

I had never had the pleasure for myself of course, but I had watched children with their parents at the park. They had looked like they were having the time of their lives.

"Are you really? I had no idea!" Said Harry, rolling his eyes but smiling over at me. He has such a cute smile, I thought to myself before realizing what I was thinking. I blushed and ran over to where Oliver stood beside a giant chest that contained several oddly shaped balls. 

"Hey, Oliver!" I cried out as I reached where he stood.

"Hey, Katrina, Harry. You guys ready?" We both nodded our heads furiously in agreement. 

After Oliver explained the rules to us he released the little golden ball he called the snitch and ordered Harry to fly around trying to catch it. As for me and him, he had us fly over to one set of the golden goal posts and threw a red ball to me that he said was a quaffle. 

"Now, Katrina. I want you to throw the ball as hard as you can and try and get it through one of these three hoops!"

"Are you crazy!" I shouted back. "What if I hit you?" 

"Don't worry about that! Just do as I say!" He argued.

"Fine!" I yelled as I tossed the quaffle as hard as I could towards one of the open posts. I blinked in surprise as I watched it soar through Oliver's hands.

"Katrina! Great job. McGonagall was right, you're amazing!" I blushed as Oliver passed the ball to me again. Oliver was so handsome! Every girl in our year thought so, but he was a (fourth/fifth?) year so there was no way he'd want anything to do with a first year like me. Besides, I was still trying to sort out my feelings for Harry!

We continued to run shooting drills while Harry chased after the snitch until Oliver was satisfied that we had the basics down.

After half an hour, night had really fallen and we couldn't carry on. 

"That Quidditch cup'll have our name on it this year," said Oliver happily as we trudged back up to the castle. 

We reached the entrance to my room and I said goodnight to the two of them, promising to see Harry at breakfast the following morning. I shucked of my robes, hopped in the shower, quickly finished the last of my homework for the week (yes I'm an overachiever) and then crashed on my bed from exhaustion.


	11. Halloween

Katrina's POV

With Quidditch practice three evenings a week on top of homework; and helping Ron and Harry with theirs, I could hardly believe it when I realized that I'd been at Hogwarts two months already. The castle felt more like home than the orphanage ever had and I could tell that Harry felt the same. Our lessons were also becoming more and more interesting now that we had mastered the basics. 

On Halloween morning I joined my friends at the Gryffindor table as usual and I filled my stomach with pumpkin flavored pancakes. Mmmmm. 

"Calm down, Katrina!" Harry said as he put his hand on my shoulder. I was bouncing uncontrollably in my seat again.

"I can't help it, Harry! Did you hear Professor Flitwick at the end of last class? He said we were going to finally learn how to make objects fly! How cool is that!" Harry just shook his head and chuckled but I could tell he was excited to. I though it was amazing and couldn't wait to learn!

Unfortunately, Flitwick paired Ron with Hermione and Harry with Seamus Finnigan and I got stuck with...Malfoy of all people. I groaned out loud when I saw who my partner was and Harry patted my back in support as he left me to go sit with Seamus. 

I slammed my books onto the desk and sat down with a huff. "Look I know neither of us wants to be partners so let's get one thing straight Malfoy. You don"t talk to me and I won't talk to you unless either of us needs help that the other can give. Sound good?"

"Whatever you say, princess." I looked over at Malfoy to see him give me a sly grin. I tilted my head in confusion as I tried to understand the look in his eyes but he didn't say anything else and I decided to leave it be.

From where I sat in the classroom, I could hear Hermione trying to help Ron as he was saying the spell wrong and gesturing too wildly. I slapped a hand to my forehead as I sensed Ron's frustration with my friend. This was not going to end well. 

I mean he was doing it completely wrong and looked like he was going to poke someone's eye out, but I knew how he felt about Hermione. Again, I repeat myself, they couldn't go more than ten minutes without arguing! Gahhh!

As the class filed out at the end of the period, I hurried up to Hermione.

"Is everything ok with you and Ron?" 

"No! He is such a pig-headed, freckle-faced ass!" Hermione exclaimed as her face turned red. "All I was trying to do was help him get the spell right and he got all upset! I mean what was I supposed to do? Just let him get it wrong or injure himself or someone else?" My eyes widened in shock. Did I really hear Hermione just curse? I never though I'd see the day when Hermione was using foul language. I liked it! 

We were walking back to the Great Hall for lunch when we found ourselves walking behind Harry and Ron.

"It's no wonder no one can stand her," we heard Ron say to Harry. I clasped my hands to my mouth in shock. "She's a nightmare, honestly!" 

"Hermione!" I shouted as she dashed off in front of me; knocking into the red haired idiot along the way. I turned to face my two friends.

"Ron! How could you say such a mean thing! It's not nice to talk about people behind their back especially when you are just feeling jealous! I correct you all the time like she just did so don't be a hypocrite. If that's really how you feel than...than I'm not sure how much longer I wanna be your friend." I yelled at Ron. I was surprised that I'd actually said what I'd just said, but right now Hermione was more important so I spent the rest of the lunch period trying to chase her down.

I finally found her crying in one of the girls bathrooms near the dungeons. 

"Hermione? Hermione please come out! I wanna talk to you!" I said banging on the stall.

"Just leave me alone, Katrina! You don't have to pretend to be my friend anymore!" I could hear her sobbing away and it broke my heart.

"Hermione, I'm not pretending. Other than Harry, you're the only friend that I've ever had! Let alone a best friend! Your smart, funny, and I love you just the way you are! So if you're not gonna come out...than I'm coming in!" With that said, I climbed onto the toilet seat in the next stall and pulled myself up so my feet dangled over the divider of Hermione's. I could see her startled expression as she glanced up at me in shock. I couldn't help but giggle as I struggled to clamber down to join her in the stall.

"You're crazy, you know that right, Katrina?" Hermione gasped; half sobbing, half laughing. 

"Yup! Just yet another reason why you love me," I laughed back as I gave her a big hug. 

We spent the rest of the afternoon in the bathroom exchanging stories. She told me how all the first-years had been avoiding her and calling her names behind her back since classes had started which amazed me. How had I missed that? I guess I'd just been spending too much time with Harry and Ron. I felt bad.

I should have realized what was going on and done what I could to stop it. I liked to think that I was someone who wouldn't just sit by on the sidelines and watch people get treated unfairly - or hurt even - but hadn't that been exactly what I had been doing? Too caught up in Quidditch practice and homework to notice what was going on? Ugh...I felt disgusted with myself.

In exchange, I told her about the girls at the orphanage and all the awful pranks they'd pulled on me over the years and the times they'd taken things further and called me names and beat me up because I was different. I honestly had thought I was going to die several times over the years and I admitted to Hermione just how surprised I was to have even made it this far.

We hugged each other again and I smiled at her as I brushed tears off my cheeks. 

"Hey Hermione, thanks for listening. I haven't told anyone about that and I promise to pay more attention to what people say to you. It's really not nice of them to say those kinds of things about you. If they knew you like I did they wouldn't talk to you like that!" They're just jealous that they aren't as smart as you'l

"Same goes for you, Katrina! People are just envious of how pretty and powerful you are! You always manage to learn each new spell long before any of the rest of us! But that's no reason for them to avoid you like they do! And if I ever get a chance to visit those 'friends' of yours at the orphanage, they better watch out!" I laughed at the evil grin she was giving me and hugged her again.

"Hey I think it's time we got out of here! I'm sure the feast has started and neither of us have eaten in forever!" I lightly shoved her towards the stall door and was about to follow her out when she rushed back in and locked the door.

"Katrina! Stand still and keep as quiet as you can!" She whispered frantically. 

"Hermione what's going on!" I whispered back. 

She couldn't get the words out and just kept shaking her head. I slowly climbed back up into the toilet seat and slowly peered over the top. 

"Merlins pants, Hermione! It's a troll!" I cried out quietly.

Slowly walking into the room was a humongous smelly old troll. I felt my blood freeze as half-formed plans raced through my mind.

"Ok Hermione, when I say the word, we are going to dash out and make for the door, got it?" She silently nodded and I squinted through the crack in the side of the door waiting for our chance. 

"Okayyy...GO!" I shouted as I flung the stall door open as the troll reached the far end of the room.

We dashed to the bathroom door and tried to wrench it open only to find it was locked. We screamed as the troll turned to face us and growled.

We ran back into a stall as I heard voices from outside.

"Hermione! Katrina!"

"Harry, Ron?! Heeeeeelp" we screamed again as the troll swung its ginormous bat into the top of the stalls. Wood splintered and cracked as Hermione and I were buried under a pile of rubble. Through a haze of dust I saw Harry and Ron sprint into the room.

"Katrina, Hermione, MOVE!" I heard Harry shout. I spotted Hermione and dragged her with me to a corner by the sinks as the troll swung again where our bodies had just lain.

It turned around and we screamed again as its' bat came swinging down on us again...


	12. The Troll

Harry's POV 

"Do something!" I heard Hermione shout from where she and Katrina huddled in a corner near the sinks. 

"Confuse it!" I yelled to Ron as I picked up a piece of rubble and threw it at the troll. Ron threw a broken piece of pipe but neither objects had any affect and I watched in horror as the troll's bat continued to swing down.

The next thing I knew, I was watching as Katrina shoved Hermione out from the corner and tried to make her way out as well. But she was too late. I cried out her name in desperation as I helplessly watched the bat hit the side of her head as one of the spikes embedded in her side. 

"Katrina!" I screamed as I ran at the troll and tried not to look at my best friends limp body. I shuddered to think what would happen if we couldn't get her to Madam Pomfrey in time...

"Oy, pea-brain," I heard Ron cry out as I jumped on the troll's back. While I managed to latch on and started punching every surface I could find, the troll easily picked me up off his back and dangled me in front of him.

I closed my eyes in horror as I saw the bat swing down on me. 

Suddenly I was dropped and I hit the ground hard. I stood up hurriedly and looked at Ron for an explanation. 

"I used wingardium leviosa on the bat," Ron said shrugging his shoulders and looking surprised that it had worked. "Is it dead?"

"No, just knocked out," I answered as I walked around it.

"Katrina!" I spotted her body laying still on the floor and ran over to her, lifting her head onto my lap. A puddle of blood had formed on the floor beneath her and her skin was icy cold. "Please wake up! You're my best friend, you can't leave me yet!" I cried out as tears streamed down my face. 

"What is going on here!" 

I looked up and saw the blurry faces of McGonagall, Snape, and Quirell. 

Snape sprinted forward as he saw Katrina's lifeless body in my arms and lifted her up into his own. Without another word he ran out of the room as McGonagall stood looking down at Ron, Hermione, and I with a furious expression on her face. There was also a deep sense of worry that I knew was directed towards Kat.

Snape's POV

I ran as fast as I could towards the hospital wing. Those idiotic gits! If she died because of that stupid Potter and his even dumber red-headed friend than I would make sure they never stepped foot in this school again! My cloak flapped behind me as I hurried up a flight of stairs and crashed through the door that lead to Madam Pomfrey's office. 

"Snape, what the..." she started to say. But then she caught sight of Kat's bloody form in my arms and pointed to an empty cot as she rushed to collect bottles of herbs and other ingredients. 

I gently laid the girl down on the white bed and stared in horror as blood gushed out of the wound in her side, quickly staining the white sheets crimson. No, no, no, no. I can't lose her too! She was all I had left in this world! The only reason I had to get up each morning and deal with all these unbearable kids! I had made a promise to her mother that if anything happened to her and her father, that I would do my best to look out for Kat, and I was failing miserably! A single tear rolled down my cheek as I watched the blood drain out of her body and her cheeks go pale.  

There was too much blood! I did my best to help Madam Pomfrey staunch the flow but it was seeming more and more hopeless as each second ticked by. Another tear rolled down my cheek as I remembered the precious little girl who used to crawl into my lap and play chess with me every night. What was I going to do without her! It was hard enough to beat back the darkness that threatened to overwhelm me, but without her light, I didn't think I would have the strength to keep fighting.

********************************************

Harry's POV

"We should have gotten than ten points," Ron grumbled as we finished up dinner in the common room.

"Five you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's" I responded as we glanced over to where she sat in front of the fire. 

"Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron admitted. "Mind you, we did save her."

"She and Katrina might not have needed saving if we hadn't locked the thing in with them in the first place...I just hope Katrina's all right!" 

I didn't even want to think of a world without my best friend in it. We may not have known each other for very long, but she had already impacted my life dramatically and I couldn't bear the thought of not getting to spend my life getting to know her better.

As we went to grab more food, we ran into Hermione. There was a pause as the three of us looked at each other.

"Thanks!" We all mumbled as we refilled our plates. 

"I'm going to the hospital wing tomorrow to check up on Katrina if you two wanna join me?" Hermione mumbled to us.

We both nodded in agreement and went to go sit down together by the fire.

********************************************

I sighed contentedly as I got into bed later that night; happy that Hermione was now our friend. I never enjoyed having to hear her and Ron argue all the time so hopefully that would stop now. 

I couldn't help but feel horrible about Katrina though. If only I'd managed to help her she wouldn't have been hurt at all! I silently vowed to protect her better from now on as I drifted off to sleep.


	13. Gryffindor v. Slytherin

Katrina's POV

I woke up the next morning with a splitting headache. I groaned as a stabbing pain filled my right side as I tried to sit up.

"You're up! Thank goodness! Try and keep still while I try and find something for the pain," Madam Pomfrey exclaimed when she noticed I was awake. The next hour she fussed over me like a mother hen; which I appreciated but found rather annoying after awhile. To my immense relief, Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the room before I found myself saying anything rude. They kept me company as I ate my breakfast in bed and promised to return later to fill me in on how classes went/to give me any new homework assignments. I was counting more on Hermione on that one for obvious reasons. The day I trusted Ron with anything homework related was the day that I failed all my classes!

********************************************

The weather turned cold as we entered the month of November. Madam Pomfrey kept me on bed rest which was extremely boring. I was dying to get out and stretch my legs, but she said she wanted to make triple sure I hadn't suffered any residual brain damage or something. To be honest, I think she was just unwilling to see me go yet. 

I had a ton of visitors which helped pass the time though. My three friends managed to stop by at least once a day sometimes more, Minnie and Snape came by and would read me stories or catch me up on their lessons in person, and too my surprise, even Malfoy visited once...

He didn't say anything just came in and looked down at me with that strange look in his eyes again. I still didn't know what it meant so I just kept silent and pretended to be sleeping.

********************************************

As the Quidditch match between Gryffindor drew nearer, I finally managed to convince Madam Pomfrey to let me leave the hospital wing and start going to classes and practice again. 

Harry and I were getting more and more nervous as Saturday approached and as we sat at the breakfast table the morning of the match, neither of us had the stomach to eat anything.

"Go on guys, take a bit of toast!" Ron urged.

"Ron's right, Harry and Katrina, you're gonna need your strength today!" Wow, I never thought I'd hear Hermione say those words I thought to myself. She never thought Ron was right!

"I'm not hungry" we both said frustrated with their attempts to get us to eat. I was so nervous I couldn't even be bothered to say jinx.

"Good luck today Katrina..." I suddenly heard Snape say from behind me. "...Potter," he added nodding his head in Harry's direction, a look of disdain on his face. I frowned. Why was he so nice to me but so cold to Harry? We all watched Snape as he limped out of the hall.

"That explains the blood," Harry said as he turned to the three of us. 

"Blood?" Hermione asked in confusion.

"Listen, on Halloween, I'm guessing Snape let the troll in as a diversion so he could try and get past that three-headed dog - but he got himself bitten - that's why he's limping.

"No, he wouldn't," Hermione said as her eyes went wide. 

"Yeah," I agreed. "He may not be very nice to you, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe! He's a Hogwarts professor!" I countered.

"Honestly, Hermione, Katrina, you think all teachers are saints or something, especially those that are nice to you," snapped Ron. "I'm with Harry. I wouldn't put anything past Snape. But what's he after?"

"I don't know but Harry and I better head down to the locker room now otherwise we're gonna be late and Oliver will shout our heads off!" I said standing up and pulling Harry out of his seat. 

I didn't want to stay here and listen to them accuse Snape endlessly about having it in for Harry. He had never been anything but kind to me. After all, he had been the one to get me to Madam Pomfrey in time! And it wasn't like he had to stop by and personally take the time to catch me up on everything I was missing in his class! Someone who did things like that did not deserve mistrust!

"Ya know, you can be kinda violent for such a shy sweet girl, Katrina," Harry complained as we made our way down to the pitch. I rolled my eyes as I grinned wickedly at him. "That's just how you know I love ya," I stuck my tongue out at him and he shook his head laughing. 

We made our way into the locker room and sat down to listen to Oliver's speech. I giggled when I noticed Fred and George mouthing along word for word. When they noticed me watching them, George winked and started to include hand gestures along with the act. Those two were hilarious! 

They had been treating me like a goddess ever since the day they had found out that Peeves would do practically anything that I asked of him. It was quite funny. They kept asking me to put in a word for them and see if I could get Peeves to help them out with some of their pranks. Sometimes I did, and sometimes I just decided to offer them my services instead. It was so much fun running around the secret passageways of Hogwarts with them! No one was safe from the three of us!

********************************************

"Now I want a nice clean game - from all of you!" Madam Hooch said as we all gathered around her at the center of the field. I noticed that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint. "Mount your brooms." 

I took a huge gulp of air and clambered onto my Nimbus Two Thousand. I kicked hard as Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle. 

"And the quaffle is taken immediately by first-year Katrina playing for Gryffindor. From what I've seen, an excellent chaser and rather attractive -" I glanced around at the podium at that last part but I had to focus on the game so there was no time to feel embarrassed. 

I didn't think anyone thought of me as attractive; let alone Lee Jordan of all people. I had met him a few times while helping the twins with their pranks, but had never really gotten a good feel for what the boy thought of me.

Hermione kept saying that everyone thought I was the prettiest girl in school but I just thought she was being silly and delusional. I was just a plain girl with plain hair and average looks.

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor." I laughed at the look on Minnie's face. Even from up high on my broom, I could see the scandalous look on her face as she stared Lee Jordan like a lioness trying to protect her cub.

"And she's belting up the field, she passes to Alicia Spinnet, off to Angelina Johnson, then back to Katrina - SHE SCORES! That's Gryffindor 10, Slytherin now in possession..."

The game was going well. We were off to a great start but soon enough Slytherin had pulled ahead. They were playing rougher than expected and Fred had to step in three times to stop bludgers from crashing into me and knocking me of my broom! It was just as I was grabbing the quaffle from a Slytherin player when I felt a strange vibration run along the length of my broom. 

The next thing I knew my broom had given a mighty jerk that almost unseated me. I dropped the ball in surprise and quickly wrapped my hands tightly along the wood. Fred and George came pelting over to try and help me as my broom continued to try and shake me off. Out of the corner of my eye I saw similar movements at the other end of the pitch. I squinted my eyes and gasped when I realized Harry's broom was doing the same thing! 

"Fred, George! One of you needs to go over and help Harry!" I shouted as I continued to cling onto my broom. I couldn't tell which twin had raced off to help as I squeezed my eyes shut as I almost got unseated. One more violent jerk and I felt myself falling. I turned head over heels not knowing which way was up nor which way was down. Suddenly I felt warm arms wrap around me and the falling sensation stopped.

"Don't worry, princess, I'd never let you fall,"

"Fred Weasley! You let me down right now and don't call me that!" I managed to squeak out.

"As you wish, m'lady," he said as he bowed his head and started to head for the ground; chuckling under his breath. I opened my mouth to protest but spotted a figure on the grass wearing Gryffindor robes and a mop of familiar messy black hair.

"Harry!" I screamed as we touched down and I ran over to him. He looked like he was about to be sick! Suddenly he retched and the snitch was in his hand and the crowd was cheering. I blinked in confusion. What had just happened. 

"We WON, we WON!" Harry shouted into my ear as he hugged me tightly. Still confused but happy that we won, I joined the team in celebration as students poured onto the field.


	14. Flamel

Katrina's POV

"It was Snape," Ron said as the four of us sat in Hagrid's hut while he bustled around making us tea. "Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broomsticks. Hermione spotted him muttering under his breath and he wouldn't take his eyes of the two of you!"

"Rubbish," said Hagrid, "why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

"Yeah, Hagrid's got a point guys, besides if anyone at this school is acting shifty, it's Quirrell!" I said. 

He was still watching me wherever I went. Every time I looked over my shoulder, there he was, gazing at me with that strange look in his eyes. He was like a second shadow that I just could NOT get rid of no matter how much I tried to shake him. Even with me using Fred and George's secret passageways around the castle, he still managed to always be around...

"Are you kidding? Snape has always had it out for Harry! Just because you're the one person he's nice to doesn't mean he's not trouble!" Ron argued back. I opened my mouth to retort but Harry intervened.

"I think it has more to do with whatever that three-headed dog is guarding. He must know that we're on to him." 

Hagrid dropped the teapot.

"How do you four know about fluffy?"

"Fluffy?"

"That thing has a name!"

"Yeah - er he's mine - bought him off a Greek feller I met in the pub las' year. Leant him to Dumbledore to guard the -"

"Yes?" Said Harry and I eagerly. 

"Now, don't ask me anymore," said Hagrid gruffly. "That's top secret, that is."

"But Snape's trying to steal it!"

"No it's Quirrell!" I interjected. 

Considering how much time that man spent following me around everywhere, I had grown very suspicious of him. When I had been held up in the hospital wing I had shared my suspicions with Sev (as he had started to let me call him). He seemed to feel the same and also thought that Quirrell might have been the one to let in the Troll on Halloween. 

"Rubbish," said Hagrid again. "Both of them are Hogwarts teachers, they'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why'd he just try and kill Harry and Katrina? I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid. I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact and Snape wasn't blinking!"

"Yeah cuz he was probably trying to save me and Harry! Did you even look at Quirrell I bet you anything he was doing the same!" I had been too focused on trying to not fall to my death to have noticed, but I'd bet everything that was in my Gringotts vault that Quirrell had been the one trying to hex Harry and I. Why did no one seem to believe me? I knew that they had noticed the way that Quirrell followed me around everywhere, and yet they were still too prejudiced towards Snape to think it could possibly be anyone else!

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" Said Hagrid hotly. "I don't know why Harry and Katrina's brooms acted like that, but Snape or Quirrell wouldn't try an' kill a student! Now listen to me all four of yeh - yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget about that dog, an' you forget what it's guardian', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicholas Flamel -"

"Aha!" Harry and I cried out. "So there's someone named Nicholas Flamel involved, is there?"

Hagrid looked furious with himself. "I should'na said that...I should NOT have said that," he mumbled to himself as he poured out the tea into separate mugs for us.

********************************************

I went to sleep that night, upset with my friends and their stupid grudge towards Snape. That poor man had done nothing but save my life and all he got in return was contempt and fear...

I got up out of bed, wanting to do something nice to show him that not everyone hated him and thought he was evil...but what? Hmmm...

I thought long and hard about it until settling on what I thought he might actually like - there were so many things that he didnt, it was difficult to think of anything that might make him smile. 

It was super childish and for all I knew, he would rip it to shreds before tossing those  shreds into his fireplace, but I ended up making a cat-shaped card and charming it so that it would move and float around in the air like that one cat from the muggle movie...oh, what was it called? Oh, yeah, Alice on or in Wonderland? Something like that. Anyways, I wrote a thank you on the card and sent it on its way towards Snape's office down in the dungeons. I knew he was most likely to be there since he always stayed up late grading papers and student's potions.

Snape's POV

I was sitting in my office grading papers when a sudden and loud POP broke the silence. At first I thought it must be Peeves and lifted my wand to send that Poltergeist off to who knows where, but I paused in shock as I saw a floating cat shaped card with bows and ribbons all over it hovering over my desk. What the hell is this!

My heart melted as I read the note. That sweet little girl always knew how to get a reaction out of me. I both hated and loved her for it. I quickly tucked the note into the bottom of my desk drawer and glanced around to make sure there were no ghosts around to witness, before I huge grin spread across my face. I just wished I didn't feel so guilty for what I had done to the poor girl. Memories were a precious thing and not something that should be stollen but it had been her grandfather's wishes and I had been to weak to say no.


	15. First Christmas at Hogwarts

Katrina's POV

"I do feel so sorry," I heard Draco Malfoy say during one of the last potions classes before break, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

"Shut up daddy's boy!" I growled under my breath. I hated when he made fun of Harry. He looked at me and opened his mouth to say something but then surprisingly, chose to stay silent. 

I tilted my head and looked at him curiously. He had been doing that a lot lately. Hermione thought it was because he had a crush on me like "all the other boys" but I had laughed and dismissed that ideas as poppycock.

********************************************

When we left the dungeons at the end of Potions, we found our way blocked by a large fir tree. Two enormous feet stuck out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told us that Hagrid was behind it.

"Hey, Hagrid, want any help?" I asked, sticking my head through the branches.

"Nah, I'm alright. Thanks, Kat."

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" Came Malfoy's cold drawl from behind us. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, princess? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose? That hut of his must seem like a palace compared to what you're used to." I dived at Malfoy just as Snape came up the stairs.

"KATRINA!"

I let got off the front of Malfoy's robes.

"She was provoked, Professor Snape," said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insulting' her,"

"Is this true, Malfoy," Snape hissed under his breath as his eyes narrowed.

Malfoy's mumbled something inaudible but Snape got the message. "Detention, Malfoy. Tonight at 8'oclock see me in my office...Katrina, just because you are provoked does not give you the right to start fighting and break school rules - got it?" He said sternly. I nodded my head feeling properly shamed as he strode off down the hall.

"Phewww...I can't believe he didn't give you detention as well!" Exclaimed Ron. 

"That's because she's teacher's pet," grinned Harry as he nudged my shoulder.

"Hey!"

"Well its true! All the teachers love you! Your the perfect little 'princess'," he said as his grin widened. "Even Peeves loves you!"

"Shut up, Harry! And don't call me that! I don't want that to become my new nickname!" I groaned as I rubbed my temples in frustration.

"I think it's a little too late for that," chuckled Ron. 

Sadly he was true. As each day went by, more and more people had started calling me the "Hogwarts Princess". It was utterly ridiculous! I blamed the Weasley Twins for having started the trend but no matter how much I begged and pleaded with them to stop, they wouldn't. 

They seemed to find it very funny to bow and scrape every time I entered their view and even went so far as carrying my books to and from classes. Harry, Ron, and Hermione found it hilarious, but I just blushed most of the time.

"Come on, cheer up, Kat! It's nearly Christmas," said Hagrid. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."

The Great Hall did indeed look spectacular. Decorations had been put up everywhere and 11 large fir trees were stationed around the room (the 12th was being dragged into the hall by Hagrid). 

"Professor Flitwick, would you like some help with that?" I offered as I watched Flitwick levitating ornaments onto the trees.

"Why thank you, Kat! That'd be just lovely," he squeaked out.

Harry coughed into his hands something that sounded strangely like, "teachers pet," and I gave him a stern look that could rival Minnie's. he hugged me and whispered, "I'm just teasing you, Kat. It's how you know I love ya," he said smirking as I rolled my eyes at him using my own words against me. 

I blushed red though at the thought that he might have meant that as more then a comment between friends; but there was no way, that was just me fantasizing.

"You guys go back to the common room or find something else to do, I'll meet up with you for the feast." I said as I returned the hug.

********************************************

I went back to my room and changed into new clothes after helping Flitwick out, then made my way to the Gryffindor common room to get the boys. 

We walked down to the feast arm in arm and sat down at the deserted table. Me, Harry, and the Weasley's had been the only ones to stay. The other three tables looked just as empty; only containing one or two people each. 

"I'll be right back," I murmured to Harry as I got up from the table and made my way over to the 3 Hufflepuff students who had remained for the holidays. 

"Um...hello, I don't suppose you three would like to join us at the Gryffindor table?" I asked politely.

"Yeah! We'd love to! Thanks for asking - to be honest we were feeling kind of lonely with everyone gone," one of the girls piped up as they got up and made their way over to our table.

I then made my way over to the two Ravenclaws who said they would be delighted to join us. Then I steeled myself and walked over to the single kid at the Slytherin table. 

"H-hi! Are you really the only Slytherin who stayed?" I said nervously, not sure how he'd react to me talking to him. Slytherin's were not known for their kindness.

"Yeah..." the boy said glumly.

"Well...if you'd like to join us you're welcome to do so!" I said kindly.

"Really?" He looked shocked and glanced hesitantly over at the group.

"But what if they don't want me there, the other houses don't exactly get along with Slytherins..." he hung his head.

"It's Christmas, no one should be on their own, I'm sure they won't mind if you joined us," I said giving him my biggest smile. 

I had spent ever single christmas of the past on my own and now that I had friends, there was no way I was going to stand by and watch as someone else had to experience that. 

He slowly got up and made his way over. I grinned as I saw the others greet him and scootch over to make room for him.

I then made my way over to the table at the front of the hall.

"Um...P-Professor Dumbledore..."

"Yes, Katrina?"

"Well...you see...I was just wondering if you and the other Professors would like to join us at our table? I know it sounds strange but it IS Christmas and there's hardly anyone here..." I broke off feeling my stupid shyness overpower me as I looked down at my hands that were fumbling with my robes.

"What a wonderful idea, Katrina, dear - and might I add, a great way to start rebuilding school unity." I looked up into Dumbledore's blue eyes and saw them twinkling with a conspiratorial gleam. I wasn't sure but I thought I saw his eyes mist over and a strange look pass over his face as he glanced down at me but when I blinked, it was gone and I thought no more of it.

Dumbledore's POV

My eyes widened as the first year approached the table. She looked so much like her mother it was scary! I had to stop myself from accidentally coughing out the food I was currently chewing on. 

My eyes twinkled as she requested that we join her at the Gryffindor table. I had watched with curiosity as she had approached the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables and felt my heart warm as she had then proceeded to reach out to the lonely Slytherin boy. How alike she was to her mother.  

Even with all that potential for evil that was held within her just waiting for the opportunity to strike out and overwhelm her, she continued to surprise me with her perseverance and resilience. Even with her similarities to her father, she seemed determined to follow in her mother's footsteps.

********************************************

Katrina's POV

The feast that night was amazing and my stomach was well and truly stuffed full by the end. I said good night to the other students and teachers as Harry, Ron, and I made our way back to my room.

"Uh-oh," I heard Ron say as he looked back at us. Harry and I had lagged behind due to the weight of our full stomachs. 

"What?" We said at the same time. "Jinx!" I said poking his arm.

For an answer, Ron just glanced up at the ceiling above our heads. Mistletoe.

My face turned red as I turned to face Harry. Before I could lose the nerve, I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Next thing I knew, he'd kissed mine back. My face was on fire as we continued down the hall. I slyly looked over at him to see his face was red too.

Harry's POV

I felt my face turn red as Ron pointed up to the mistletoe. I was both excited and nervous. Was I supposed to kiss her? Or would she see that as weird and have expected me to ignore it? Before I could think of what to do, she had leaned over and I felt her lips brush against my cheek. I blushed and quickly returned the action.

The rest of the walk back to her room was a haze as I dreamily reflected on what had just happened. When I glanced over at Ron it was to see him smirking at me with a knowing look in his eyes.

We said goodnight to Kat and the two of us walked back to our dormitory. The minute her door closed I felt my lips turn up and my walk lighten. I know I probably looked goofy but I was on cloud nine. 

I went to sleep that night with a warm belly and dreams of Kat's soft lips on my cheek. 

********************************************

In-Line Comments

\- I'd go further with it but they are only 11 so...  
\- Just added in Dumbledore's POV so let me know what you think!


	16. The Mirror of Erised

Katrina's POV

"Harry, Ron, wake UP! IT'S CHRISTMAS!!!" I ran through the portrait hole and up to their dormitory and banged loudly on the door.

"Alright, alright, calm your hippogriffs! We're getting out of bed!" I heard Ron grumble sleepily.

"Well hurry up otherwise I'm opening your gifts for you!" I cried merrily.

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Oh yes I would!"

The door burst open as I knew it would and Ron stood there with a shocked expression on his face; as if I'd just stolen Christmas. Hehehe, I'm evil.

I walked back down the stairs in triumph as the two trailed blearily behind me. I handed each of them their presents and they gave me mine.

"One...two...three go!" I shouted and we ripped off the paper.

"Oh Harry, it's beautiful! I LOVE IT, I LOVE IT!" I screamed as I hugged Harry! He'd gotten me a beautiful silver charm bracelet with the Hogwarts seal on it. 

 

"Will...will you put in on for me?" I asked blushing like mad. His face turned red as he took my hand in his and attached the bracelet to my wrist. 

"Your gift was wonderful, Kat. I love it to!" He exclaimed. Since he and Ron had been playing a lot of wizards chess lately I had gotten him a nice set of chess pieces for his own. 

 

"No...no you did NOT, Kat!"

"I take it you like your gift then, Ron?" I said grinning.

"Like it? I-I-I-I" Ron opened and closed his mouth at a loss for words.

"Oh no, Harry, I think I broke Ron," I said playfully. For Ron I had gotten a Chudley Canons beater's club signed by the whole team. When I saw it for sale in one of the Quidditch magazines, I'd known it would be the perfect gift for him.

"Thank you!" Ron finally managed to cry out.

"Your welcome Ron! I'm just glad you liked it. I'm so happy I met you guys, and Hermione and everyone else. I couldn't ask for better friends," Harry and Ron just nodded numbly like boys do when girls get all emotional and I rolled my eyes. 

We continue to open gifts. There was rock cakes from Hagrid (which we knew better than to eat by now), a large box of assorted treats from Hermione, and from the Weasley's, a beautiful pale blue sweater that matched my eyes. I immediately made a mental note to send Molly Weasley a thank you letter. 

Harry, Kat, looks like you guys missed something." Ron pointed out as he gestured to two gifts that were left under the tree.

I picked up the present and slowly peeled back the golden wrapping paper...and gasped. It was a beautiful silver jewelry box that contained a stunning silver necklace with a Phoenix dangling from it. I looked at it closer and noticed the bird's eyes seemed to be made up of tiny red rubies and in its claws was clasped a stunningly blue crystal that matched my eyes (same for the gem on the jewelry box)

 

 

It was amazing and I instantly clasped it around my neck. As I did so I noticed a letter half-hidden in the wrapping paper.

This necklace belonged to your mother. Before she died, she requested that it be given to you. It was given to her by her mother, and her mother before that. It is high time that it was passed down to you. Happy Christmas.

I blinked. This had belonged to my mother? I touched the Phoenix as my mind raced. Who was she? Somebody out there knew! 

I looked over to tell Harry but he had disappeared.

"Ron, where's Harry?"

"What do you mean, im standing right in front of you!"

"Harry?"

"Yeah"

"Why can't I see you?" 

"What do you mean?"

"All I can hear is your voice, but I don't see you anywhere!" I kept looking around. This was bizarre.

"Woah, it must be an invisibility cloak, Harry!" I heard Ron shout.

"Cloak, what cloak? HARRY! There you are!" I screamed as Harry suddenly reappeared right in front of me. He was taking something silvery off his shoulders. (Ok yes I just used silver like a million times just now but it couldn't be helped🙈😅)

"Wow, Harry! I wonder who sent it to you! I've heard about them and they aren't cheap!" I stated excitedly.

"I don't know, there wasn't any name on the note."

"Really? Same with mine!"

We compared notes and discovered that the handwriting in both letters was the same. I really wish I knew who the mysterious gift sender was!

********************************************

We spent the afternoon having a massive snowball fight out in the courtyard. I was surprised that even Percy had decided to eventually join in. It was a little after 6 when we finally decided to head back in and we all trooped back up to the Gryffindor common room to dry off and get ready for the Christmas feast.

********************************************

Once again we all sat at one table and the spread was even more fantastic than the night before. We filled up on 3rds and 4ths before becoming too full to cram anything more down. I trudged slowly off to bed feeling happily content, though still full of questions about my mother and the anonymous gift.

********************************************

"Kat! KAT!" I woke up with a startled yelp as I heard soft incessant knocking on my bedroom door. 

I tumbled out of bed and yanked the door open.

"Harry?" I said sleepily. "What's going on?"

"I thought we could use the cloak to sneak into the restricted section of the library and look for Nicolas Flamel!" Harry whispered in explanation.

"Alright, that's actually a great idea!" I said yawning as I slipped some fuzzy slippers onto my feet and closed the door behind me.

********************************************

(For the sake of the length of this chapter im going to skip past the part where the two of them go to the library and almost get caught by Filch😬)

We closed the door hurriedly and I had another burst of brilliance and used a previously unknown spell to lock the door so that Filch couldn't follow behind. I had to admit, I didn't know where all of this random information and spells came from but they were extremely handy in a pinch! It was like I had already learned them once before but I knew that was impossible and decided not to think too hardly about the matter. 

Harry pulled the cloak off of our shoulders and we stared around at the empty room we had found ourselves. Well - empty except for a large old mirror that stood in the center of the room. 

We slowly crept up to it and peered into it. I gasped as instead of my reflection, I saw something different. I squinted my eyes as I looked at the scene before me. I older female was sitting on a rocking chair holding what seemed to be a little baby in her arms. As I looked more closely I gasped as my gaze settled upon the necklace that swung from her slender neck. I reached up and touched the same one that hung around my own neck.

"Mom?" I whispered, my voice full of emotion. 

The image zoomed in and I took in every detail. She had blond hair that fell past her shoulders, twinkling blue eyes like my own, and was wearing a simple but beautiful, beige dress. As I watched, the lady in the mirror rocked back and forth as she sang to the child. I blinked furiously as I tried to stop the tears from spilling over. Was it really my mom? Did this mirror show the past? I'd always wished that I had a mother to sing me to sleep when I couldn't, or to yell at me to put a sweater on...someone that I could proudly say was related to me. Growing up in an orphanage and watching all the different types of families out there, I knew that blood didn't matter THAT much, but still...it always hit me hard that there was no one out there in the world that I was tied to. 

I felt a lump rise in my throat as I continued to stare at the mirror and the lady reflected in it that radiated nothing but pure good. Then I realized something. My hair was dark brown not blond! Did that mean that I got my hair from my father? And if so, what else had I gotten from him? And why wasn't he in the picture? 

I finally managed to rip my eyes away from the image and look at Harry. He was staring at the mirror just as I had and there were tears falling from his eyes. 

"Harry, Harry!" I said tugging on his arm and pulling him into a hug. He broke down and sobbed on my shoulder as I ran my fingers through his hair.

"I-I think we should really get going Harry. I'd hate to get caught at this hour!" I said hesitantly when he'd managed to calm down enough.

He looked at me and nodded as he wiped away he tears that had stained my own face. He threw the cloak back over our shoulders and we walked back hand in hand.

********************************************

In-Line Comments

\- There will be a new charm each year!Imagine the charm in silver and with a LOT better detailing! Hope the pics help give you an idea but the gems are different as I mentioned.  
\- I forgot to mention, but she told Harry the password to get into her outer quarters - there's a separate password for her actual bedroom  
\- Not to ruin it but hint: the reason he's not in the mirror is because her hearts desire is to see her parents/when she thinks of them she always imagined both being 'good guys' and her father isn't so her hearts desire cannot fully be shown in the mirror  
\- Gonna do another skip for the sake of length etc so basically they spend the rest of the winter break using the nighttime to go sit in front of the mirror till album catches them and tells them the mirror will shortly be moved to a new location and not to go looking for it etc etc. let me know what you guys thought of this scene!!! Not sure how it went🙈


	17. The Stone

Katrina's POV

Soon enough, the break had ended and the halls were once again filled with students. Hermione came back and the four of us continued to search for more information on Nicolas Flamel in between classes and Quidditch practice. 

Oliver was working us harder than ever - no matter how much it rained, and I came back each night soaked and covered in mud. I wasn't complaining though since I wanted to win as badly as he did. If we won against Hufflepuff than Gryffindor would overtake Slytherin in the house competition for the first time in 7 years! While I wasn't officially a part of any house, I spent so much time in Gryffindor tower that I felt equally invested. Plus, I wanted to wipe the smug look off of Malfoy's face!

I could tell that Harry was nervous about the match; especially once we learned that Snape was refereeing, so I tried my hardest to calm him down. Not that it worked. Snape treated Harry so horribly that I couldn't really blame him for reacting the way that he was. I was torn myself. It was becoming hard to decide how I felt about Snape when he treated my best friend so miserably yet was nothing but nice to me. Why he treated me differently compared to anyone else was a mystery to everyone including myself.

********************************************

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I were sitting at a table in the Gryffindor common room finishing up some homework when the portrait hole suddenly burst open and Neville toppled inside. I looked closer and realized that his legs had been magically glued together; not doubt by Malfoy. Stupid ferret! Please, Merlin, let me punch him!

I jumped up and immediately performed the counter curse as I helped him to our table. Everyone else in the room was laughing but I didn't find it very funny. 

"Malfoy," Neville gasped, confirming my suspicions. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice on."

"Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urged. "Report him!"

Neville shook his head. "I don't want more trouble," he mumbled. Unfortunately, that was definitely what would happen if he went to any of the teachers. I shook my head. 

"You've got to stand up to him, Neville! Said Ron. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."

"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Neville choked out. 

"You're worth twelve of Malfoy, Neville. You may not see it yet, but the hat chose to put you in Gryffindor for a reason! And I for one think you are extremely brave!" I said giving him a hug. I rummaged around in my robes and found the last of the chocolate frogs I'd gotten for Christmas.

"Thanks, Kat." He said giving me a watery smile. "Do you want the card? I know you and Harry collect them." He handed me the card and walked up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. 

I handed the card to Harry and returned to my Transfiguration essay. I had almost finished it and just needed an inch or so more and then I would be done!

"Dumbledore again," I heard Harry say. "He was the first one we ever -" I looked up as he paused.

"I've found him!" He whispered to us. "I've found Flamel! I told you I'd read the name somewhere before! We read it on the train coming here - listen to this. He recited the information on the back of the Wizard's card.

I gasped, how had I forgotten that! Hermione jumped up and dashed off to the girls' dormitories. The rest of us barely had time to exchange mystified looks before she'd returned with a giant book in her hands.

"I never thought to look in here!" She whispered excitedly. "I checked this out weeks ago for a bit of light reading!"

"Light?" Ron said eyeing the heavy book. Hermione ignored him and frantically began flipping through the pages.

"There! I knew it! Nicolas Flamel is the only known maker of the Sorcerer's Stone!" My jaw dropped. 

"Really? Woah!" I said amazed. Harry and Ron looked at us in confusion.

"The Sorcerer's Stone is a stone that transforms any metal into pure gold and can be used to brew the Elixir of Life which makes the drinker immortal." I explained for their sakes. "That's what the dog must be guarding - Flamel's Sorcerer's Stone!

"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying? No wonder Snape's after it! Anyone would want it." Harry said.

"I told you, it's not Snape! Chances are, it's Quirrell!" I argued. This started us down the usual disagreement that never ended until we decided to agree to disagree. 

We finished up the rest of our homework and I packed up my things and headed back to my room thinking about all the things I'd do if I had an infinite amount of gold and never died.


	18. Gryffindor v. Hufflepuff

Harry's POV

(This is gonna be a short chapter since the match ends so soon but I wanna give the games their own chapters for some crazy reason😇)

"Don't want to pressure you, Potter, but if we ever need an early capture of the snitch it's now. Finish the game before Snape can favor Hufflepuff too much." Wood told me as he pulled me aside before the game.

"The whole school is out there!" Said Fred as he peered out of the door. "Even - blimey - Dumbledore's come to watch!"

My heart did a somersault.

"Dumbledore?" I exclaimed, rushing to the door to double check. There was no mistaking that silver beard.

I sighed with relief. There was simply no way Snape would dare try to hurt me with Dumbledore watching. Whatever Kat said to the contrary, I knew he was out to get me. 

She was stuck on this crazy idea that it was Quirrell who wanted me dead and not Snape. But other than following Kat around everywhere, Quirrell had never given me any reason for suspicion, where as Snape was a walking ball of suspicious activity!

Katrina's POV

It felt like the game had barely started before we all watched as Harry went into a spectacular dive and caught the snitch. I leaned forward on my broom and nearly tackled him to the ground in my excitement. No one could remember the snitch ever having been caught that early before! It was bloody brilliant!

I headed up to the Gryffindor common room after changing out of my team jersey and looked and Ron and Neville in shock.

"What it Merlins name happened to you two? You look like you got run over by a stampede of centaurs!"

"Fight with Malfoy," Ron said shrugging as he mopped up blood with the ends of his robes.

"Neville - you too?" 

"Yup!" Said Neville grinning despite a bloody nose and a black eye. 

"Wow, Neville...um...good for you! I think? I mean you really shouldn't be fighting but it's great that you stuck up for yourself. I told you Gryffindor was meant for you!" 

Even though I berated the the two boys for getting into a fight with Malfoy, I secretly wished that I had been there. It would have been just the opportunity I needed to finally punch the smirk of that blonde loser's face! But sadly, the time had not come for that particular pleasure.

The party was in mid-swing when Harry finally tramped in. He pulled Ron, Hermione, and I over to the fireplace and told us about what he'd just witnessed. I could hardly believe what I heard.

Well isn't it obvious, Harry! Snape was just trying to find out what Quirrell knows!" I argued.

"Katrina, seriously! How can you be so naive! You're such a goody-two shoes. I swear sometimes -"

"Sometimes what, Harry?" I said crossing my arms as my eyes flashed with fury. I could not believe he had just called me a goody-two shoes! How dare he! I narrowed my eyes at him, waiting to hear his response.

"Nothing - I...I'm, Oh I'm sorry Kat I didn't mean to say that. I'm just so confused and worried, and I have no idea what we're supposed to do! And however nice Snape treats you, he definitely hates me!"

"That's quite alright, Harry. I understand, but don't think I'll forget this. Just because you're upset and confused, it does not give you the right to turn on your best friend. It's also not my fault how Snape treats you. I don't agree with it, but that's on him so don't you dare take your anger with him out on me!" With that said, I stormed out of the room. 

Ugh, boys! I thought to myself. Throwing up my hands in the air as I made my way back to my private room. Always acting so stupid and saying stupid things!

I know I had probably just overreacted, but what he'd said sounded so similar to some of the things Liza and the other kids at the orphanage had said over the years that it had hit me hard. I'd never expected Harry to ever say anything like that. Ron, sure, but not Harry. Never Harry! But I guess I had been wrong.


	19. Norbert

Katrina's POV

While we disagreed on who was out to get the Stone, we were all worried that it might be stolen and in the following weeks, we periodically stole up to the 3rd floor to check that Fluffy was still growling.

However, there were more important things to worry about for me and Hermione. Exams! They were only TEN weeks away! Oh my goodness, we should have started studying before now! I couldn't believe we hadn't realized sooner!

Ron and Harry rolled their eyes and said the exams were ages away, but Hermione and I didn't care. We started mapping out study schedules and going to the library every chance we got. The amount of homework had also increased so there wasn't much time to worry too much about the Stone.

We were studying in the library one day when we spotted Hagrid acting suspicious as he looked up books in the section on dragons.

When he spotted us he slowly walked over.

"Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?" 

"Oh we found out who he was ages ago," said Ron impressively. "We know that the dog's guarding the sorcerer's st -"

"Shhhhh!" Said Hagrid angrily as he looked around to make sure no one was listening. "Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh!"

"There's a few things we wanted to ask you as a matter of fact," Harry piped up. "About what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy -"

"Shhhh," said Hagrid again. "Listen - come an' see me later, in not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbittin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know, they'll think I told yeh."

We nodded in agreement and Hagrid shuffled out of the library carrying his books.

As I continued to study my notes, I couldn't help but think about the dragon section of the library. It would seriously be so cool to have a dragon for a pet! If only it was possible!

********************************************

When we knocked on Hagrid's hut an hour later, we were surprised to find that all the curtains had be drawn shut. Hagrid called, "who is it?" before letting us in and quickly closed the door shut behind. He was acting very suspicious...and it was stifling hot inside with a fire going even though it was already a warm day.

"So - yeh wanted to ask me somethin?"

"Yes," Harry said, taking charge. "We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Sorcerer's Stone apart from Fluffy."

"O' course I can't," he said, frowning at us. "1) I don't know meself and 2) yeh know too much already, so I wouldn't tell yeh if I could. Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."

"Oh come on, Hagrid! You know everything that goes on around here," I said fluttering my lashes and giving him the sweetest look I could possibly give. Hagrid's beard twitched and I could tell he was smiling. Good. Now to really lay it on thick. "We only wondered who had done the guarding, really. You know, who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you. Cuz who wouldn't trust you, Hagrid." 

Hagrid's chest swelled at my last words and my three friends beamed at me. I'd never tried it really, but a small part of me was happy to see how easily I had been able to manipulate him. 

Did that make me a bad person? I had found over the years that I could usually convince strangers to do whatever I wanted, but I generally didn't like having that kind of power over someone. 

"Well I don' s'ppose it could hurt to tell yeh that..." I shivered when he went down the list of Professor's and said Quirrell's name. I felt a twinge in the scar on my collar bone. "- an Dumbledore himself did something. Oh hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah. Professor Snape."

"Snape!" Harry cried out. Ugh, not this again!

"Yeah - yer not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he's not about ter steal it."

I knew what Harry was thinking by the way he looked at me. He was thinking that it would have been easy enough for Snape to convince the other teachers to tell them what spells they'd used. I just rolled my eyes and shook my head at him. Couldn't he see that Quirrell was in an equal position to do so?" 

He was also a Professor and could have just as easily convinced the others to tell him what protective measures they had used!

"You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren't you, Hagrid?" Harry asked nervously.

"Not a soul knows except me and Dumbledore a'course," said Hagrid proudly. 

"Hagrid, can we have a window? It's boiling in here," Ron complained.

"Can't Ron, sorry." I noticed Hagrid glancing at the fire as he said this and I looked closer at it. There was something oval shaped perched in the middle of it!

"Hagrid...is that what I think it is?"

"Ah...that's er..."

"Where'd you get it?" I exclaimed as we all stared at the black egg. And here I was just thinking about how awesome it would be to get my hands on one!

"Won it. Off a stranger in the pub las' night."

"Hagrid - you live in a wooden house," said Hermione with wide eyes.

"Speaking as someone who has set things on fire in the past; accidentally of course, you don't want to risk it Hagrid!" I added. I had received a very memorable beating one time when I'd accidentally set Liza's wardrobe on fire when I was 7. 

In my opinion, I had been doing her a service. There was nothing in that wardrobe that actually looked good. But hey, if that pig-faced idiot wanted to look as ugly as she did then who was I to stop her from purposefully walking around like a walking freak-show!

We sat there and watched as the dragon slowly hatched. The minute I laid my eyes on it I began to fully understand Hagrid's love for the creatures. It was beautiful! Not to mention absolutely ADORABLE!!! If only they stayed this size, I would totally buy one!

"Who's tha'?" Asks Hagrid suddenly as we saw movement by the window. We ran up to it and spotted someone with blond hair running away.

"Malfoy" the four of us said as our hearts dropped. We had sat in Hagrid's hut waiting for the egg to hatch longer than expected and it was now after hours. We were surely going to get detention for this.

I was right. We had scarcely reached the stairs outside the Great Hall when Professor McGonagall approached us dragging Malfoy behind her.

We all hung our heads.

"Nothing, I repeat, nothing, gives you the right to wander the school at this hour. 50 points will be taken from you each and the five of you will report to Filch tomorrow evening at 6 o'clock sharp for your detentions."

"50 points each! But Professor!" Harry argued. Gryffindor would lose the lead we had just won from the Quidditch game! 

As much as I knew winning the Quidditch/house cup meant to Minnie, I knew she cared more for the rules and that Harry might have been speaking to a brick wall at the moment. 

"Excuse me, Professor, but I could have sworn I heard you say, 'the five of us'," Malfoy chimed in. 

I rolled my eyes at his stupidity. Was the git not even capable of comprehending the repercussions of his own actions? 

"Yes, Malfoy. You see, while your intentions were honorable, you too, were out of bed after hours." With that, she strode off and left us there staring after her.

We walked up the stairs with our shoulders sagging, knowing the rest of the students would not react well. For while Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were rooting for their own houses, at the end of the day, everyone just wanted to see Slytherin get beat.

I didn't bother saying goodbye as I opened my door and flopped dejectedly onto my bed that night. 

I was not looking forward to tomorrow when everyone realized that my friends and I had ruined any chance we had of winning the house cup, all in one single night...


	20. The Forbidden Forest

Katrina's POV

When Gryffindors discovered that they were now in last place for the house cup, they were furious. Hermione, Ron, and I were luckily though. Sure, no one would talk to us anymore, but poor Harry! He was the famous one, the boy everyone had hoped would win the cup. He was now the most hated guy in school. Everywhere he went, people pointed and said all kinds of mean things! 

On the other hand. He was now Slytherin's best friend and whenever they passed, they clapped him on the back and thanked him. 

Hermione and I stopped drawing attention to ourselves in class. We just sat hunched over our parchment and scribbled down notes silently. 

In a crazy weird way, it was a good thing that the exams weren't so far away. The four of us could throw ourselves into studying to distract us from the shame we were receiving. I myself had been used to this kind of treatment from living at the orphanage but never on this large of a scale!

Harry and I made a vow not to meddle from now on in matters that were not our business. Clearly it only ended in trouble.

Even Quidditch had lost its' fun. No one on the team would speak to Harry or I and when we ran drills no one would pass me the quaffle unless forced to by Oliver...

Hermione, Ron, and I were studying in the library one day when Harry ran in late. Apparently he had been walking by Quirrell's office when he'd heard whimpering and a voice crying, "no - no...not again, please! Alright - alright -"

"Snape's done it then! Said Ron. "If Quirrell's told him how to break his Anti-Dark Force spell...so what do we do Harry?"

Before Harry could answer I spoke up for him. "We either leave it alone or go to Dumbledore like we should have done ages ago. If we try anything ourselves we'll be thrown out for sure!"

Harry nodded his head glumly in agreement and we went back to reviewing.

The following morning the four of us were eating breakfast when four school owls swooped down carrying notes. They were all the same. 

Your detention time has been changed. You will meet Mr. Filch at eleven o'clock tonight in the entrance hall.

We met up with Malfoy at eleven 0'clock. We looked at him in surprise, all of us having forgotten that he also, had received a detention.

"Follow me," said Filch, lighting a lamp and leading us outside. As he lead us out of the castle, he rambled on about how it was a pity that the old forms of punishment had died out and blah blah. To be honest, I zoned him out after awhile. That is until I heard Hagrid's voice float out of the darkness.

"Is that you Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started."

"I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf?" I opened my mouth to tell him that Hagrid was not an oaf but his next words chilled me to the bone. "Think again - it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece."

I saw Malfoy stop dead in his tracks. "The forest?" he repeated, and he didn't sound quite as cool as usual. I normally would have laughed to see him so scared, but truthfully, so was I. "We can't go in there at night - there's all sorts of things in there! Werewolves, I heard."

"That's your problem, isn't it?" said Filch, his voice cracking with glee. "Should've thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn't you?" 

Hagrid came striding toward us out of the dark, Fang at his heels. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder."Abou' time," he said. "I bin waitin' fer half an hour already. Allright, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Katrina?"

"I shouldn't be too friendly to them, Hagrid," said Filch coldly, they're here to be punished, after all."

"That's why yer late, is it?" said Hagrid, frowning at Filch. "Bin lecturin' them, eh?"

"I'll be back at dawn," said Filch, "for what's left of them," he added nastily as he turned and started back toward the castle. 

Malfoy now turned to Hagrid. "I'm not going in that forest," he said.

"Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts," said Hagrid fiercely."Yeh've done wrong an' now yehve got ter pay fer it."

"But this is servant stuff, it's not for students to do. If my father knew I was doing this," I rolled my eyes at yet another reference to his father. I swear the boy couldn't go two seconds without mentioning him!

"- he'd tell yer that's how it is at Hogwarts," Hagrid growled. "If yeh think yer father'd rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an' pack. Go on" I giggled at the expression on Malfoy's face. He looked furious, but in the end, he didn't move.

"Right then," said Hagrid, "now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks."

"Look there," said Hagrid, "see that stuff shinin' on the ground? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery."

"And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" said Malfoy, unable to keep the fear out of his voice."

"There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang," said Hagrid. "Right, now, we're gonna split in ter two parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions.

"I want Fang," said Malfoy quickly, looking at Fang's long teeth.

"All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward," said Hagrid. " So me, Harry, and Katrina'll go one way an' Draco, Ron, Hermione an' Fang'll go the other. Now, if any of us finds the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? an' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh - let's go." 

The forest was black and silent. A little way into it we reached a fork in the earth path, and Harry, Hagrid, and I took the left path while Malfoy, Ron, Hermione, and Fang took the right.

We walked in silence, our eyes on the ground. I was focused on watching the path ahead of me; a sense of dread and foreboding steeling over me as the wind blew goosebumps across my skin.

"Could a werewolf be killing the unicorns?" Harry asked. I knew he was remembering Filch and Malfoy's conversation.

"Not fast enough," said Hagrid. "It's not easy ter catch a unicorn, they're powerful magic creatures. I never knew one ter be hurt before."

We continued to walk in silence for about 10-15 minutes before Hagrid's spoke up.

"You all right, Katrina?" I nodded my head but squeezed Harry's arm tighter as he helped me over a log. I was fairly short and unfortunately most of the trees that had fallen over were almost twice my height!

Suddenly, in a clearing ahead, something definitely moved.

"Who's there?" Hagrid called. "Show yerself - I'm armed!" And into the clearing came - was it a man, or a horse? To the waist, a man, with red hair and beard, but below that was a horse's gleaming chestnut body with a long, reddish tail. 

"Oh, it's you, Ronan," said Hagrid in relief. "How are yeh?" He walked forward and shook the centaur's hand.

"Good evening to you, Hagrid," said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful voice. "Were you going to shoot me?"

"Can't be too careful, Ronan," said Hagrid, patting his crossbow. "There's summat bad loose in this forest. This is Harry Potter an' Katrina, by the way. Students up at the school. An' this is Ronan, you two. He's a centaur.

"We'd noticed," I said faintly.

"Good evening," said Ronan. "Students, are you? And do you learn much,up at the school?"

"Erm - a bit" I mumbled timidly.

"A bit. Well, that's something." Ronan sighed. He flung back his headand stared at the sky. "Mars is bright tonight."

"Yeah," said Hagrid, glancing up, too. "Listen, I'm glad we've run inter yeh, Ronan, 'cause there's a unicorn bin hurt. You seen anythin'?"

Ronan didn't answer immediately. He stared unblinkingly upward, then sighed again.

I watched the two talk to each other and couldn't help but start to chuckle as Hagrid got more and more frustrated. Hagrid kept trying to ask if Ronan had seen anything suspicious and the centaur kept commenting about how mars looked especially bright tonight.

Then we were joined by another centaur, one named Bane. And he also couldn't stop talking about how mars was bright. I had to contain my laughter as Hagrid's face turned red with irritation and frustration.

"Never," said Hagrid irritably, "try an' get a straight answer out of a centaur. Ruddy stargazers. Not interested in anythin' closer'n the moon."

"Are there many of them in here?" I asked.

"Oh, a fair few...Keep themselves to themselves mostly, but they're good enough about turnin' up if ever I want a word. They know things... jus' don' let on much."

We walked on through the dense, dark trees. We had just passed a bend in the path when I grabbed Hagrid's arm.

"Hagrid! Look! Red sparks, the others are in trouble!"

"You two wait here!" Hagrid shouted. "Stay on the path, I'll come back for yeh!" We heard him crashing away through the undergrowth and stood looking at each other, very scared, until we couldn't hear anything but the rustling of leaves around us.

"You don't think they've been hurt, do you?" I whispered.

"I don't care if Malfoy has, but if something's got Ron or Hermione..."

The minutes dragged by. What was going on? Where were the others?

At last, a great crunching noise announced Hagrid's return. Malfoy, Ron, Hermione, and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Ron and grabbed him as a joke. Ron had panicked and sent up the sparks.

"We'll be lucky ter catch anythin' now, with the racket you two were makin'. Right, we're changin' groups - Ron, Hermione you two stay with me, Harry, Katrina, you go with Fang an' this idiot. I'm sorry," Hagrid added to us in a whisper, "but he'll have a harder time frightenin' you two, an' we've gotta get this done."

So we set off into the heart of the forest with Malfoy and Fang. We walked for nearly half an hour, deeper and deeper into the forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. I groaned as I noticed Malfoy slowly inching closer and closer to me. 

The idiot looked like he wanted to talk to me or something.  

"Look -" Harry murmured, holding out his arm to stop us. Something bright white was gleaming on the ground. We stepped closer. It was the unicorn all right, and it was dead. 

I had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. A slithering sound made us freeze where we stood. 

Malfoy tried to grab my arm but I brushed him off. Ewww, now I have to burn my arm off!

Suddenly, out of the shadows, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground and began to drink the Unicorn's blood. Gross!

"AAAAAAAAAARGH!" Malfoy let out a terrible scream and bolted - so did Fang. The hooded figure raised its head and looked right at Harry and I -unicorn blood dribbling down its front. 

It got to its feet and came swiftly toward us. Harry tugged on my arm but I couldn't move for fear. Then a pain like I'd never felt before pierced my collar bone; it was as though my scar were on fire. Half blinded, I staggered backward and knocked Harry to the ground and landed on top of him. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the red eyes that were aimed right at me. 

If the situation had been different, then I might have noticed how Harry's body felt under mine. But it wasn't.

Out of nowhere, something jumped clean over Harry and I, charging at the figure. The pain in my shoulder was so bad all I could do was dig my nails into Harry's arms. When I finally managed to look up, the figure had gone. A centaur was standing over us, not Ronan or Bane; this one looked younger.

"Are you all right?" said the centaur, pulling Harry and I to our feet. I couldn't speak.

"Yes - thank you. What was that?" Harry answered.

The centaur didn't respond. He looked carefully at Harry and I, his eyes lingering on the scar that stood out, livid, on Harry's forehead and then flicking over to where I was rubbing my collar. 

I paused in my movements. Did he know about my scar?! How could he possibly know?! I hadn't even told Harry and the others about it yet!

"You had better get back to Hagrid. The forest is not safe at this time - especially for you two. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way. My name is Firenze," he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so that we could clamber onto his back. 

I sat behind Harry and laced my arms around his waist as I tucked my head into the crook of his neck.

There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing.

"Firenze!" Bane thundered. "What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?"

"This is the Potter boy and none other than the girl the heavens talk about. The horrors that would come if that creature had gotten to her! The quicker they leave this forest, the better." Firenze said.

Harry and I sat uncomfortably as the three centaurs got into a huge argument. 

Next thing I knew, Firenze was rearing onto his hind legs. I grasped Harry as tight as possible, scared that I was going to fall off. Firenze whisked around; with Harry and I clutching on as best as we could, and plunged off into the trees, leaving Ronan and Bane behind them.

"What was that thing you saved us from, anyway?" Firenze slowed to a walk but did not answer Harry's question. We were passing through a particularly dense patch of trees, however, when Firenze suddenly stopped.

"Potter, Katrina, do you know what unicorn blood is used -for?"

"No," said Harry, startled by the odd question. "We've only used the horn and tail hair in Potions."

"That is because it is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn," said Firenze. "The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenseless to save yourself, and you will have but a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips."

"But who'd be that desperate?" The both of us wondered aloud. "If you're going to be cursed forever, death is better, isn't it?"

"It is," Firenze agreed, "unless all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else - something that will bring you back to full strength and power - something that will mean you can never die. Do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?"

"The Sorcerer's Stone! Of course - the Elixir of Life! But I don't understand who -" 

But unlike Harry, I was starting to grasp what Firenze was trying to get at.

It was as though an iron fist had clenched suddenly around my heart as I met Harry's wide eyes. 

"Do you mean," Harry croaked, "that was Vol-"

"Harry! Katrina, are you all right?" Hermione was running toward us down the path, Hagrid and Ron puffing along behind her.

"We're fine," said Harry, hardly knowing what he was saying. 

Speak for yourself I thought in my head. I didn't know what I was exactly but it certainly wasn't fine. Nor anywhere close to alright. Especially not if my best friend's nemesis was running around the Forbidden Forest trying to find a way to come back to full power and kill my friend!  

"The unicorn's dead, Hagrid, it's in that clearing back there."

"This is where I leave you," Firenze murmured as Hagrid hurried off to examine the unicorn. "You are safe now." We slid off his back. "Good luck, Harry Potter and Katrina," said Firenze. "The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times." 

He gazed extra long at me as he said this and then turned and cantered back into the depths of the forest, leaving me shivering behind him. Why had he kept looking at me like that? Why did all the centaurs and teacher's around here act like they knew something that I didn't! It was aggravating! 

We began to tell Ron and Hermione what had happened in the forest as we went back to the Gryffindor common room. 

Harry couldn't sit down. He paced up and down in front of the fire. I sat right in front of the fire and even though I was wrapped in a blanket, I was still shaking.

"Snape wants the stone for Voldemort...and Voldemort's waiting in the forest...and all this time we thought Snape just wanted to get rich..." I glared at Harry as he once again accused Snape. But was still too shaken to say anything. I couldn't stop trembling at the thought of Voldemort coming back and stealing one of the only friends I had ever had in my life! 

"Stop saying the name!" said Ron in a terrified whisper, as if he thought Voldemort could hear them. Harry wasn't listening.

"Firenze saved Kat and I, but he shouldn't have done so...Bane was furious...he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to happen...They must show that Voldemort's coming back...Bane thinks Firenze should have let Voldemort kill us...I suppose that's written in the stars as well." I looked at him in surprise as I realized what he'd implied.

"Why would Voldemort want to kill ME?" I said shocked. "He has no reason to want me dead! It's YOU he's after Harry!"

"Then why did Voldemort go straight for YOU in the forest! I was right next to you but he only had eyes for you!" 

I blinked. Was that true? I honestly hadn't really been paying attention much after I had tripped and landed on top of Harry. 

"Will you stop saying the name!" Ron hissed.

"So all we've got to wait for now is Snape to steal the Stone," Harry went on feverishly, "then Voldemort will be able to come and finish me off...Well, I suppose Bane'll be happy."

Ugh, Snape isn't the one after the stone! It's QUIRRELL! I thought to myself angrily! Why would no one but Sev believe me!

Hermione looked very frightened, but she had a word of comfort."Harry, everyone says Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was everafraid of With Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't touch you. Anyway,who says the centaurs are right? 

We all sat in silence until Ron and Hermione decided to finally go to bed.

"Can I stay here again with you Harry?" I asked nervously. I didn't want to be on my own just yet.

"Sure, Kat." Harry said smiling at me. "Let me just go up and get changed quickly."

"Alright see ya soon!" I said as he disappeared upstairs. I waved my wand over myself and my pajamas magically appeared on me. Merlin, I love magic! I sat quietly on the couch waiting for Harry to come back down.

Harry's POV

I went up to the stairs to change into my pajamas as I thought over the events of the night. But the night's surprises weren't over. 

I changed quickly and hurried back down to the common room thinking everything was over. There was still something that confused me.

"Hey, Kat?" 

"Yeah?" She said as she turned to face me on the couch.

"Well...um when we were in the forest and that...thing appeared. You looked like you were in as much pain as I was. You kept clutching your collar bone...can - can I ask why?" 

She looked at me and gave a heavy sigh. She slowly pulled back the top of her shirt to reveal her collar bone.

I gasped. "Wha-how-it-it-" I couldn't think of anything to say. She had a scar on her collar bone that looked exactly like mine! Well, not exactly. But if I were to tilt my head 90 degrees and then look at it, it would indeed have looked like a lightning bolt. "But how...I mean to say...does this mean Voldemort tried to kill you too? Is that why he went after you first?" I asked even more confused.

"I, I don't know, Harry. I don't exactly remember anything before the age of 5 so I couldn't tell you. Anytime I try to think about events before then it's like a complete blank space...it's weird. And then there's the fact that I keep using spells and knowing information that I've never come across before! It's so - so - confusing!" She burst out unable to find the right words to express her feelings. I didn't know how to comfort her or what to say so I just hugged her.

"Um...Harry, can you not tell anyone about my scar? No offense, but I see the way everyone treats you because of yours and I know what the rumors would say if they saw mine. I'd really like to avoid that." She whispered to me as her hands fumbled in her robes. I noticed she did that whenever she was nervous. 

"Of course, Kat! I won't tell a soul! You're lucky, at least you can hide yours!" I said as she gave me a watery smile.

We sat there staring at each other for awhile before I grabbed the blanket and she snuggled up into me. I fell asleep that night enjoying the feel of having her wrapped in my arms.

********************************************

In-Line Comments

\- Sorry for the length of this chapter but I wanted to squeeze it all in there - let me know what you guys thought! And don't forget to check out Nathan Rarick! He's the reason that the unicorn line is my favorite! Did debate in High School which was how I first discovered this way back when. Comment your thoughts!


	21. Through the Trapdoor

So excited guys! Should be able to get to the last chapter tonight! Stay in tune for I will finally be revealing one side of Katrina's family tree!

Harry's POV

In years to come, I would never quite remember how I managed to get through exams when I half expected Voldemort to come bursting through the door at any moment. Yet the days crept by, and there could be no doubt that Fluffy was still alive and well behind the locked door.

It was sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where we did our written papers. We had practical exams as well. 

Professor Flitwick called us one by one into his class to see if we could make a pineapple tapdance across a desk. Professor McGonagall watched us turn a mouse into a snuffbox - points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was, but taken away if it had whiskers. 

Snape made us all nervous, breathing down our necks while we tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion. I did the best I could, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in my scar as did Kat, which had been bothering us ever since the trip into the forest.

Our very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invented self-stirring cauldrons and we'd be free, free for a whole wonderful week until exam results came out. 

When the ghost of Professor Binns told us to put down our quills and roll up their parchment, I couldn't help cheering with the rest.

"That was far easier than I thought it would be," said Hermione as they joined the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds. I saw Kat nod her head in agreement. I smiled at her. She's so smart, I can't believe she's my best friend!

"We needn't have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elric the Eager." Hermione and Kat always liked to go through their exam papers afterward, but Ron said this made him feel ill, so we wandered down to the lake and flopped under a tree. 

"No more studying," Ron sighed happily, stretching out on the grass. "You could look more cheerful, Harry, we've got a week before we find out how badly we've done, there's no need to worry yet."

I rubbed my forehead."I wish I knew what this means!" I burst out angrily as I shared a look with Kat. I knew her scar was hurting her too but I had kept my promise and kept her scar a secret. "My scar keeps hurting - it's happened before, but never as often as this."

"Go to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione suggested.

"I'm not ill," I said. "I think it's a warning... it means danger's coming...."

Ron couldn't get worked up, "Harry, relax, Hermione's right, the Stone's safe as long as Dumbledore's around. Anyway, we've never had any proof Snape found out how to get past Fluffy. And Neville will play Quidditch for England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down."

I nodded, but couldn't shake off a lurking feeling that there was something I'd forgotten to do, something important. When I tried to explain this, Hermione said, "That's just the exams. I woke up last night and was halfway through my Transfiguration notes before I remembered we'd done that one."

I was quite sure the unsettled feeling didn't have anything to do with work, though. I watched an owl flutter toward the school, a note clamped in its mouth. Hagrid was the only one who ever sent me letters. Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore. Hagrid would never tell anyone how to get past Fluffy...never...but - I suddenly jumped to my feet.

"Where're you going?" said Ron sleepily.

"I've just thought of something. We've got to go and see Hagrid, now."

"Why?" panted Hermione, hurrying to keep up.

"Don't you think it's a bit odd," I said, scrambling up the grassy slope, "that what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it's against wizard law? Why didn't I see it before?"

Hagrid was sitting in an armchair outside his house. 

"Hullo," he said, smiling. "Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?"

"Yes, please," said Ron, but I cut him off. We were in a hurry. I shook my head as Hagrid told us about the stranger in the pub and how he had convinced Hagrid to play cards for the dragon egg; and in the doing so, had got Hagrid to admit that all Fluffy needed was some music to fall asleep.

We didn't speak to each other at all until we came to a halt in the entrance hall, which seemed very cold and gloomy after the grounds.

"We've got to go to Dumbledore," said Kat. "Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either Quirrell or Voldemort under that cloak - it must've been easy, once he'd got Hagrid drunk. I just hope Dumbledore believes us. Where's Dumbledore's office?" I shook my head at her refusal to see that Snape was the one trying to steal the Stone. I just didn't understand why she was so stubborn about it being Quirrell! 

We had never been told where Dumbledore lived, nor did we know anyone who had been sent to see him.

"We'll just have to -" I began, but a voice suddenly rang across the hall.

It was Professor McGonagall, carrying a large pile of books.

We asked her where Dumbledore's office was but she asked why and I didn't know what to say so I told her it was a secret...that was definitely the wrong thing to say! But it turns out Dumbledore had left ten minutes ago...

And then we shocked her by revealing that we knew about the sorcerer's stone but she didn't believe us when we told her that someone was going to try and steal it and suggested that we go back outside...

But we didn't. "It's tonight," I said, once I was sure Professor McGonagall was out of earshot. "Snape's going through the trapdoor tonight." 

I saw Katrina open her mouth to tell me it wasn't Snape but I ignored her.

"Right, here's what we've got to do," I whispered urgently. "One of us has got to keep an eye on Snape - wait outside the staff room and follow him if he leaves it. Hermione, Kat, you'd better do that.

"Why us?" 

"It's obvious," said Ron. "You can pretend to be waiting for Professor Flitwick, you know." He put on a high voice, "'Oh Professor Flitwick, we're so worried, we think we got question fourteen b wrong....'"

"Oh, shut up," said Hermione and Kat, but they agreed to go and watch out for Snape. I heard Kat mutter again about how it wasn't Snape but I ignored her again.

"And we'd better stay outside the third-floor corridor," I told Ron."Come on."

But that part of the plan didn't work. Professor McGonagall turned up again and this time, she lost her temper.

We went back to the common room, Ron had just said, "At least Hermione and Kat are on Snape's tail," when the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open and they came in.

"I'm sorry, Harry!" Hermione wailed. "Snape came out and asked us what we were doing, so I said we were waiting for Flitwick, and Snape went to get him, and we've only just got away, I don't know where Snape went."

"Well, that's it then, isn't it? I'm going out of here tonight and I'm going to try and get to the Stone first."

"You're mad!" said Ron.

"You can't!" said Hermione. "After what McGonagall and Snape have said? You'll be expelled!"

"SO WHAT" I shouted. "Don't you understand? If Snape gets hold of the Stone, Voldemort's coming back! Haven't you heard what it was like when he was trying to take over? If I get caught before I can get to the Stone, well, I'll have to go back to the Dursleys and wait for Voldemort to find me there, it's only dying a bit later than I would have, because I'm never going over to the Dark Side! I'm going through that trap door tonight and nothing you three say is going to stop me! Voldemort killed my parents, remember?"

I glared at them."You're right Harry," said Hermione in a small voice.

"I'll use the invisibility cloak," 

"But will it cover all four of us?" said Kat.

"All - all four of us?"

"Oh, come off it, you don't think we'd let you go alone?" Kat grabbed my hand and squeezed it. I looked into her twinkling blue eyes and felt a wave of calm wash over me.

"But if we get caught, you three will be expelled, too.

"Not if we can help it," said Hermione grimly. "Flitwick told us in secret that we got a hundred and twelve percent on his exam. They're not throwing us out after that."

********************************************

After dinner the four of us sat nervously apart in the common room. Nobody bothered us; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to me any more, after all. Not after we had lost all of those points!

Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed."Better get the cloak," Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. I ran upstairs to our dormitory then back down to the common room.

"We'd better put the cloak on here, and make sure it covers all four of us - if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own -"

"What are you doing?" said a voice from the corner of the room. Neville appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad, who looked as though he'd been making another bid for freedom.

"Nothing, Neville, nothing," I said, hurriedly putting the cloak behind my back. Neville stared at our guilty faces.

"You're going out again," he said.

"No, no, no," said Kat. "No, we're not. Why don't you go to bed, Neville?" 

"You can't go out," said Neville, "you'll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble. I won't let you do it," he said, hurrying to stand in front of the portrait hole. "I'll - I'll fight you!"

"Neville," Ron exploded, "get away from that hole and don't be an idiot-"

"Don't you call me an idiot!" said Neville. I don't think you should be breaking any more rules! And you were the one who told me to stand up to people!"

"Yes, but not to us," said Ron in exasperation. "Neville, you don't know what you're doing." 

"Go on then, try and hit me!" said Neville, raising his fists. "I'm ready!" I turned to Katrina.

"Do something," I said desperately. Katrina stepped forward.

"Neville," she said, "I'm really, really sorry about this." She raised her wand. "Stupefy!" she cried, pointing it at Neville. Neville's body went rigid as he fell flat on his face, stiff as a board. Katrina ran to turn him over. 

"What've you done to him?" I whispered. 

"I don't know!" She said miserably. "I told you, some spells just seem to come to me! Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry."

"We had to, Neville, no time to explain," said Ron. We stepped over him and pulled on the invisibility cloak. But leaving Neville lying motionless on the floor didn't feel like a very good omen. 

Minutes later, we were there, outside the third-floor corridor - and the door was already ajar.

"Well, there you are," I said quietly, "Snape's already got past Fluffy." 

I ignored the look that Katrina gave me. 

I pushed the door open. As the door creaked, low, rumbling growls met our ears. All three of the dog's noses sniffed madly in our direction, even though it couldn't see us.

"What was that Hagrid said about Fluffy falling asleep with music?" Hermione whispered. "Kat I've heard you sing in the shower you're amazing! How bout you sing it a lullaby?" Kat looked at Hermione in shock as her hands went to fumble in her robes. 

"I um...I'm not so sure...I mean..."

"Come on, you can do it!" I urged her.

When she'd finished we all looked at her in astonishment. The three-headed dog was in a deep sleep. 

"Woah, Kat! Your voice is beautiful!" I exclaimed as we opened the trapdoor.

"Thanks" she mumbled. Without another word the four of us jumped down into the dark depths.

Katrina's POV

With a funny, muffled sort of thump we landed on something soft. I sat up and felt around, my eyes not used to the gloom. It felt as though I was sitting on some sort of plant. I looked closer and realized what it was.

Hermione and I leapt up and struggled toward a damp wall. We had to struggle because the moment we landed, the plant had started to twist snakelike tendrils around our ankles. As for Harry and Ron, their legs had already been bound tightly in long creepers without their noticing. 

Hermione and I had managed to free ourselves before the plant got a firm grip on us. Now we watched in horror as the two boys fought to pull the plant off them, but the more they strained against it, the tighter and faster the plant wound around them.

"Stop moving!" Hermione ordered them. "I know what this is - it's Devil's Snare!"

"Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called, that's a great help," snarled Ron.

"Shut up, I'm trying to remember how to kill it!" said Hermione. "Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare... what did Professor Sprout say? - it likes the dark and the damp -"

"So light a fire!" Harry choked.

"Yes, of course - but there's no wood!" Hermione cried, wringing her hands.

Before I knew what I was doing, I had pulled out my wand and yelled, "incendio!" I blinked as I realized it was working. Thank Merlin for these random moments of inspiration!

 

In a matter of seconds, the plant was loosening its' grip as it cringed away from the flames. Wriggling and flailing, it unraveled itself from their bodies, and they were able to pull free.

"Lucky you pay attention in Herbology, Hermione," said Harry as he joined us by the wall, wiping sweat off his face."

Yeah," said Ron, "and lucky Katrina doesn't lose her head in a crisis - there's no wood,' honestly."

"This way," said Harry, pointing down a stone passageway, which was the only way forward.

"Can you hear something?" Ron whispered. I listened. A soft rustling and clinking seemed to be coming from upahead.

We reached the end of the passageway and saw before us a brilliantly lit chamber, its' ceiling arching high above us. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door. I looked closer and realized the birds were actually keys.

 

In the middle of the room were floating broomsticks. It was clear what we had to do. Harry and I grabbed two of the brooms. The minute our hands touched the wood, the bird-like creatures started flying at us. We soared through the room looking for the one that we needed and eventually managed to track it down and catch it.

Ron and Hermione's cheers echoed around the high chamber. We landed quickly, and Harry ran to the door, the key struggling in his hand. He rammed it into the lock and turned - it worked. The moment the lock had clicked open, the key took flight again, looking very battered now that it had been caught twice.

"Ready?" Harry asked us all, his hand on the door handle. We nodded. 

The next chamber was so dark we couldn't see anything at all. But as we stepped into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal we were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller than we were and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing us, way across the chamber, were the white pieces. 

 

"Now what do we do?" Harry whispered.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" said Ron. "We've got to play our way across the room." He thought for a moment. "Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione, YOU next to him instead of that castle, Katrina, take the queen's square."

"What about you?"

"I'm going to be a knight," said Ron. The chessmen seemed to have been listening, because at these words a knight, a bishop, a castle, and the queen turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board, leaving four empty squares.

"White always plays first in chess," said Ron, peering across the board."Yes... look..."A white pawn had moved forward two squares. Ron started to direct the black pieces. 

Our first real shock came when our other knight was taken. The white queen smashed him to the floor and dragged him off the board, where he lay quite still, facedown.

Every time one of our men was lost, the white pieces showed no mercy. Soon there was a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Twice, Ron only just noticed in time that we were in danger. He himself darted around the board, taking almost as many white pieces as we had lost black ones."We're nearly there," he muttered suddenly. "Let me think let me think..."

The white queen turned her blank face toward him. "Yes..." said Ron softly, "It's the only way... I've got to be taken."

"NO!" We shouted.

"That's chess!" snapped Ron. "You've got to make some sacrifices! I take one step forward and she'll take me - that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry!"

We tried to talk him out of it but the fool was too stubborn. I trembled and closed my eyes, too scared too watch it happen.

I screamed but stayed on my square as I watched in horror as the white queen dragged Ron to one side. He looked as if he'd been knocked out.

Shaking, Harry moved three spaces to the left. The white king took off his crown and threw it at Harry's feet. We had won. The chessmen parted and bowed, leaving the door ahead clear. 

"Hermione, stay here with Ron and make sure he's alright! If he wakes up try and get back out and get to the owlry and send a note to Dumbledore. Then get yourselves over to Madam Pomfrey!" I told them sternly as Harry and I made to step through the next door. Hermione nodded and dashed over to Ron.

With one last desperate look back at Ron, Harry and I charged through the door and up the next passageway.

"What if he's -?"

"He'll be all right," said Harry, trying to reassure me. "What do you reckon's next?"

"We've had Sprout's, that was the Devil's Snare; Flitwick must've put charms on the keys; McGonagall transfigured the chessmen to make them alive; that leaves Quirrell's spell, and Snape's."

We reached another door and Harry pushed it open. A disgusting smell filled our nostrils, making both of us pull our robes up over our noses. Eyes watering, we saw, flat on the floor in front of us, a troll even larger than the one from Halloween.

"I'm glad we didn't have to fight that one," Harry whispered as we stepped carefully over one of its massive legs. 

"Come on, I can't breathe." I pulled open the next door, both of us hardly daring to look at what came next - but there was nothing very frightening in here, just a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing on it in a line.

 

"Snape's," said Harry. "What do we have to do?"

We stepped over the threshold, and immediately a fire sprang up behind us in the doorway. It wasn't ordinary fire either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onward. We were trapped.

I seized a roll of paper lying next to the bottles. Harry looked over my shoulder to read it:

Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,   
Two of us will help you, which ever you would find,  
One among us seven will let you move ahead,  
Another will transport the drinker back instead,  
Two among our number hold only nettle wine,  
Three of us are killers, waiting bidden in line.  
Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,  
To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:  
First, however slyly the poison tries to hide  
You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;  
Second, different are those who stand at either end,  
But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;  
Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,  
Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;  
Fourth, the second left and the second on the right  
Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.

I let out a great sigh, "Brilliant, this isn't magic - it's logic - a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here forever."

"But so will we, won't we?" 

"Of course not," I said confidently. "Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire, and one will get us back through the purple."

"But how do we know which to drink?"

"Give me a minute."

I read the paper several times. Then walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to myself and pointing at them. At last I -

"Got it, the smallest bottle will get us through the black fire - toward the Stone. I'll drink first." I took the little bottle and swallowed half of it. I shivered as it felt like my body was turning to ice. I handed the bottle over to Harry as I stepped through the fire...


	22. Voldemort

THIS IS IT GUYS! Hope I was able to pleasantly surprise y'all! Comment, share, follow, etc! I will be attempting to start on the second book asap but school starts back up today so it might be periodically.

Harry's POV

I stepped through the fire after Kat but there was already someone there -

but it wasn't Snape. It wasn't even Voldemort.

It was Quirrell.

"You!" I gasped as I smacked my palm on my forehead. How could I be so stupid? I should have listened to Katrina! I was sooo wrong to ignore her instincts! I'll never doubt her again!

Quirrell smiled. His face wasn't twitching at all. "Me," he said calmly. "I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, Potter, Katrina."

"But I thought - Snape -"

"Severus?" Quirrell laughed, and it wasn't his usual quivering treble, either, but cold and sharp. "Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?"

I couldn't take it in. This couldn't be true, it couldn't. "But Snape tried to kill me and Katrina!"

"No, no, no. I tried to kill you two. Your friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Snape at that Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with the both of you. Another few seconds and I'd have got you off those brooms. I'd have managed it before then if Snape hadn't been muttering a countercurse, trying to save you."

"Snape was trying to save us?" I said as I looked over at Katrina who had been saying the same thing all year.

"Of course," said Quirrell coolly. "Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn't do it again. Apparently he's extra protective of the two of you. I mean Katrina, I understand; since she's his goddaughter, but you, Potter...Funny, really...he needn't have bothered. I couldn't do anything with Dumbledore watching. All the other teachers thought Snape was trying to stop Gryffindor from winning, he did make himself unpopular...and what a waste of time, when after all that, I'm going to kill you two tonight."

Quirrel snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around Katrina and I.

I looked at Katrina with wide eyes. I was feeling mixed emotions. Anger over the ropes that were now wrapping around her and surprise over the information we had just learned.

"Wait...did I hear what you said right? Snape - Snape's my...godfather?!" Katrina squeaked out.

"Yes, child. Why do you think he favors you so much?" Godfather?!

Well I guess that answered that question...it was crazy to think about though! Snape, the cold-hearted evil being that he was, being trusted as a godfather? Crazy. Absolutely crazy...who in their right mind would trust Snape of all people with something like that! Well, I guess her mother...

"You two are too nosy to live. Scurrying around the school on Halloween like that, for all I knew you'd seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone."

"You let the troll in?" Damn, Kat was right about that too!

"Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls - you must have seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there? Unfortunately, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off - and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn't even manage to bite Snape's leg off properly. Now, wait quietly, I need to examine this interesting mirror.

It was only then that I realized what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised.

"This mirror is the key to finding the Stone," Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. "Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this...but he's in London...I'll be far away by the time he gets back...."

All I could think of doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him from concentrating on the mirror. "I saw you and Snape in the forest -" I blurted out.

"Yes," said Quirrell idly, walking around the mirror to look at the back. "He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I'd got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me - as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side...."

Quirrell came back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily into it. "I see the Stone...I'm presenting it to my master...but where is it?"

Katrina and I struggled against the ropes binding us, but they didn't give. 

"But Snape always seemed to hate me so much."

"Oh, he does," said Quirrell casually, "heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn't you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead."

"But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing - I thought Snape was threatening you...." For the first time, a spasm of fear flitted across Quirrell's face. 

"Sometimes," he said, "I find it hard to follow my master's instructions - he is a great wizard and I am weak -"

"You mean he was there in the classroom with you?" I gasped.

"He is with me wherever I go," said Quirrell quietly. "I met him when I traveled around the world. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it...Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me." 

Quirrell shivered suddenly. "He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me...decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me..." Quirrell's voice trailed away. 

I was remembering our trip to Diagon Alley - how could I have been so stupid? We'd seen Quirrell there that very day, shaken hands with him in the Leaky Cauldron. Katrina's scar had even warned her!

Quirrell cursed under his breath. "I don't understand...is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it? What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!"

And to our horror, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself 

"Use the children...Use the children." Quirrell rounded on me. "Yes -Potter, Katrina, come here." He clapped his hands once, and the ropes binding us fell off. 

Katrina's POV

I got slowly to my feet.

"Come here," Quirrell repeated. "Look in the mirror and tell me what you see."

I walked toward him. I must lie, I thought desperately. I must look and lie about what I see, that's all. Quirrell moved close behind me. I could feel his hot breath on my neck and I wanted nothing more than to shudder but I resisted.

No way was I going to let this creep know how much he effected me! 

There was a funny smell that seemed to come from Quirrell's turban. I closed my eyes, stepped in front of the mirror, and opened them again. I saw my reflection, pale and scared-looking at first. But a moment later, the reflection smiled at me. My mother was standing behind me and suddenly she reached out and handed a blood-red rock to the mirror-me. As she did, I felt my hand fill up with an object. I didn't need to look down to tell what it was.

Since Harry and I were standing next to each other, I slowly nudged my hand over and slipped it into his pants pocket. (When Harry looked in the mirror he saw him with Kat holding hands as girlfriend and boyfriend in the future - in the image she slips the stone into his pocket :p) I didn't have any pockets in my pants and there was no way that I could hide it any other way!

"Well?" said Quirrell impatiently. "What do you see?"

I screwed up my courage. "I see my mother holding me in her arms. We're sitting in a rocking chair and she's singing me a lullaby." It wasn't a complete lie; considering I HAD seen that at one point in time.

Quirrell cursed again. "Get out of the way," he said. As Harry and I moved aside, I wondered if we should make a break for it? But we hadn't walked five paces before a high voice spoke, though Quirrell wasn't moving his lips.

"She lies...she lies..."

"Come back here you two!" Quirrell shouted. "Tell me the truth! What did you just see?"

The high voice spoke again. "Let me speak to them face-to-face..."

"Master, you are not strong enough!"

"I have strength enough...for this...." I felt as if Devil's Snare was rooting me to the spot. I couldn't move a muscle. Petrified, I watched as Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. What was going on? The turban fell away. Quirrell's head looked strangely small without it. Then he turned slowly on the spot.

I would have screamed, but I couldn't make a sound. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face, the most terrible face I had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.

"Harry Potter..." it whispered. "Katrina - with no official last name - but I know whose evil spawn you are. You're mother was just as pathetic as Harry's."

I gasped, "Harry was right, you killed her didn't you...and you tried to kill me too!" I felt an intense anger wash over me. I wanted nothing more than to kill the bastard standing before me. My eyes grew hot.

The face of Voldemort paused as he looked me in the eyes. He suddenly grew still as he stared into them.

"Interesting...very interesting. Why have they changed color all of a sudden? (Will elaborate on this in the next books at some point) Who is your father, child?"

"How am I supposed to know, you killed my mother before she could tell me and no one else knows!" I spat out at him. He tilted his head again before he spoke again. 

"It matters not for the time being...I will find out eventually...see what I have become?" the face said. "Mere shadow and vapor...I have form only when I can share another's body...Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks...you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest...and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own...Now...why don't you give me that Stone that was slipped into your pocket, Potter?"

So he knew. The feeling suddenly surged back into our legs. I stumbled backward and yanked Harry with me.

"Don't be a fool," snarled the face. "Better save your own life and join me...or you'll meet the same end as your parents...They all died begging me for mercy..."

"LIAR!" Harry and I shouted.

Quirrell was walking backward at us, so that Voldemort could still see us. The evil face was now smiling. I stepped in front of Harry. I wasn't going to let this man kill my best friend.

"How touching..." it hissed. "I always value bravery...Yes, your parents were brave....I killed his father first; so courageous he was. Then your mother, Katrina, before moving onto Harry's mother...none needed to have died...they were trying to protect you...Now give me the Stone, unless you want them to have died in vain."

"NEVER!"

I shoved Harry towards the flame filled door, but Voldemort screamed "SEIZE THEM! and the next second, I felt Quirrell's hand close on my wrist. At once, a needle-sharp pain seared across my scar; my collar bone felt as though it was about to split in two; I yelled, struggling with all my might, and to my surprise, Quirrell let go of me.

The pain near my collar lessened - I looked around wildly to see where Quirrell had gone, and saw him hunched in pain, looking at his fingers - they were blistering before his eyes.

"Seize them! SEIZE THEM!" shrieked Voldemort again, and Quirrell lunged, knocking Harry and I clean off our feet' landing on top of us, both hands around our necks -

My scar was almost blinding me with pain, yet I could see Quirrell howling in agony as well.

"Master, I cannot hold them, my hands - my hands!" And Quirrell, though pinning us to the ground with his knees, let go of our necks and stared, bewildered, at his own palms.

I could see they looked burned, raw, red, and shiny.

"Then kill them fool, and be done!" screeched Voldemort. Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but Harry and I; by instinct, reached up and grabbed Quirrell's face -

"AAAARGH!" Quirrell rolled off of us, his face blistering, too, and then we both realized what was going on: Quirrell couldn't touch our bare skin, not without suffering terrible pain - our only chance was to keep hold of Quirrell, keep him in enough pain to stop him from doing a curse.

We jumped to our feet, caught Quirrell by the arm, and hung on as tight as we could. Quirrell screamed and tried to throw us off - the pain in my scar was building - I couldn't see - I could only hear Quirrell's terrible shrieks and Voldemort's yells of, "KILL THEM! KILL THEM!" 

Then suddenly the pain was gone and Quirrell was disintegrating before our eyes into ash. I looked at Harry as my shoulders sagged in triumph. Then my spine straightened as my eyes widened.

A shadowy form had arisen from the ashes and was heading straight for Harry! I dived in front of him to knock him out of the way. As I did so, I felt the shadow pass through me and everything went black...

********************************************

I slowly woke up (3 days later) to the sound of soft voices. I was lying in a bed with white linen sheets, and next to me was a table piled high with what looked to be an assortment of candy and other get-well gifts. As I looked more closely I saw a mini toilet seat and thought immediately of Fred and George. 

I looked around my surroundings and realized I was lying in the hospital wing and saw that the voices I'd woken to were those of Harry and Professor Dumbledore. 

"...as for the Stone, it has been destroyed." I heard Dumbledore explaining as I keyed into their conversation. I had no energy yet to say anything so I just layed back and listened.

"Destroyed?" said Harry blankly. "But your friend - Nicolas Flamel -"

"Oh, you know about Nicolas?" said Dumbledore, sounding quite delighted. "You did do the thing properly, didn't you? Well, Nicolas and I have had a little chat, and agreed it's all for the best."

"But that means he and his wife will die, won't they?"

"They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die." I saw Dumbledore smiled at the look of amazement on Harry's face. "To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. 

"Sir?" said Harry. "I've been thinking...even if the Stone's gone, Vol-I mean, You-Know-Who -"

"Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself."

"Yes, sir. Well, Voldemort's going to try other ways of coming back, isn't he? I mean, he hasn't gone, has he?"

"No, Harry, he is still out there somewhere... not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. He left Quirrell to die. Nevertheless, Harry, while you may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time - and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power."

Harry nodded, then said, "Sir, there are some other things I'd like to know, if you can tell me...things I want to know the truth about...."

"Me too!" I said finally piping up as I struggled to sit up in bed. The two of them looked at me and smiled to see me awake.

"I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you'll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie."

"Well...Voldemort said he killed my mother first, and then tried to kill me along with Harry, but why would he want to kill me in the first place?" I started out before Harry could speak up.

Dumbledore sighed very deeply this time. "Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot fully explain yet. I will tell you that it had nothing to do with you, Kat, dear. I guess you could say it was my fault.

"Your fault, Professor? Why would it be your fault?"

"Well, everyone knows Voldemort and I go way back and that he fears me. Years ago, he was attempting to find the best way to get to me...and he found it through killing your mother and trying to get to you as well."

"I don't understand, sir," I said struggling to sit up straighter as Dumbledore came over to sit at the end of my bed. I wasn't sure where he was going with this. "What does my mother have to do with you?"

Dumbledore paused for a very long time and for a moment I wasn't sure if he was going to respond. Before I could ask another question, he opened his mouth and answered in a low voice that Harry and I strained to hear clearly.

"Because...because she was my daughter."

"Excuse me, what?" I said not sure I'd heard right. "Did you just say my mother was your daughter?" I could not believe what he was telling me.

"Yes, yes she was."

Harry and I exchanged surprised looks. "But then, sir, um...doesn't that make you my...my...grandfather?" I whispered the last word nervously.

"Yes, I suppose it does, little one," Dumbledore said smiling down at me with tears in his eyes. I looked into them and suddenly noticed for the first time that they twinkled blue just like my own. I stared wide-eyed at him.

 

"Hel...hello...nice to finally meet you?" I said cautiously, not knowing what in Merlin's name I was supposed to say now.

"Hello, to you to, dear," he said chuckling softly. There was a long pause as we stared at each other before he spoke again. "I believe you two had further questions of me?" My tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth so I let Harry have a turn.

"Well, sir, I was wondering why couldn't Quirrell touch us? 

"Your mothers died to save you two. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mothers' for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign...to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch people marked by something so good." Dumbledore now became very interested in a bird out on the windowsill, which gave Harry and I time to dry our eyes on the bed sheets. 

After another short pause, Harry said, "And the invisibility cloak - do you know who sent it to me?"

"Ah - your father happened to leave it in my possession, and I thought you might like it back. Furthermore, I was the one responsible for sending Katrina her mother's necklace." I touched the Phoenix as he looked at me and smiled again. I was so conflicted on how to feel right now. There were so many unanswered questions. Like why I had spent my life in an Orphanage when I had a living breathing grandfather...I couldn't tell if I was happy or irritated.

"And there's something else..." Harry added quickly.

"Fire away."

"Quirrell said Snape -"

"Professor Snape, Harry." 

"Yes, him - Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?"

"Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr. Malfoy. And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive."

"What?"

"He saved his life."

"What?"

"Yes..." said Dumbledore dreamily. "Funny, the way people's minds work, isn't it? Professor Snape couldn't bear being in your father's debt...I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father even. Then he could go back to hating your father's memory in peace....he was of course protective of Katrina as her mother named him as one of her godparents."

"And sir, there's one more thing..."

"Just the one?"

"How did Katrina and I get the Stone out of the mirror?"

"Ah, now, I'm glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone - find it, but not use it - would be able to get it, otherwise they'd just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes....Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit flavored one, and since then I'm afraid I've rather lost my liking for them - but I think I'll be safe with a nice toffee, don't you?" He smiled and popped the golden-brown bean into his mouth. Then he choked and said, "Alas! Ear wax!"

"Um...Grandfather?" I said uncertainly. "Is it okay if I ask one more question?"

"Yes, my dear, go right ahead." 

"Do - do you know who my father is?"

"Alas, dear one, the information you ask me for, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know, one day...put it from your mind now. When you are older...I know you hate to hear this...but when you are ready, you will know." I flopped back down on the bed in frustration. But I could tell the conversation was over and that it would be futile to press the matter. 

"One last thing my dear, as much as I wish otherwise, my enemies would still love to get their hands on my granddaughter if they found out that was what you were, so unfortunately I have to ask the two of you to keep that information strictly to yourselves." We nodded to show our understanding. His eyes; so similar to my own, gazed right through me and seemed to guess what was bothering me. "I know it's less than desirable and believe me I wish it were otherwise, but this is why I had to leave you to the Orphanage. If anyone found out who you were...," he shuddered at the chilling thought.

I didn't like the situation but I guess I understood...I was distracted when I felt a warmth flow into me and heat my insides as Dumbledore leaned down and kissed my forehead before sweeping out of the room.

********************************************

"Just five minutes," Harry and I pleaded, "You let Professor Dumbledore in..."

"Well, of course, that was the headmaster, quite different. You need rest."

"We are resting, look, lying down and everything. Oh, go on, Madam Pomfrey..."

"Oh, very well," she said. "But five minutes only." Hermione and Ron rushed into the hospital wing and sat down by or side.

Harry told them everything while I sat and listened; my mind still whirling from the new information I had recently received.

Ron and Hermione were a very good audience; they gasped in all the right places, and when Harry told them what was under Quirrell's turban, Hermione screamed out loud.

"So the Stone's gone?" said Ron finally. "Flamel's just going to die?"

"That's what I said, but Dumbledore thinks that - what was it?"

"- to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure." I finished for Harry.

"I always said he was off his rocker," said Ron, looking quite impressed at how crazy his hero was.

"So what happened to you two?" said Harry.

"Well, we got back all right," said Hermione. "I brought Ron round - that took a while - and we were dashing up to the owlery to contact Dumbledore when we met him in the entrance hall - he already knew - he just said, 'Harry and Katrina have gone after him, haven't they' and hurtled off to the third floor."

"D'you think he meant you to do it?" said Ron. "Sending you your father's cloak and everything?"

"Well, " Hermione exploded, "if he did - I mean to say that's terrible - you could have been killed."

"No, it isn't," said Harry thoughtfully. "He's a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give us a chance. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don't think it was an accident he let us find out how the mirror worked. It's almost like he thought we had the right to face Voldemort if we could...."

"Yeah, Dumbledore's off his rocker, all right," said Ron proudly."Listen, you've got to be up for the end-of-year feast tomorrow. The points are all in and Slytherin won, of course - you missed the last Quidditch match, we were steamrollered by Ravenclaw without you - but the food'll be good." At that moment, Madam Pomfrey bustled over.

"You've had nearly fifteen minutes, now OUT" she said firmly.

Later the next day, Hagrid sidled through the door as he spoke. As usual when he was indoors, Hagrid looked too big to be allowed. He sat down next to Harry, took one look at him, and burst into tears. When he finally managed to calm down he told us how Dumbledore had given him the day off to reach out to Harry's parents' old friends. He handed Harry a beautiful photo album filled with pictures of his parents and I smiled at the look of wonder on Harry's face. It was such a sweet and kind gesture. 

********************************************

We made our way down to the end-of-year feast alone that night. It was decked out in the Slytherin colors of green and silver to celebrate Slytherin's winning the house cup for the seventh year in a row. A huge banner showing the Slytherin serpent covered the wall behind the High Table.

"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "And what a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were...you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts....Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy- two."

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. I could see Draco Malfoy banging his goblet on the table. It was a sickening sight.

"Yes, Yes, well done, Slytherin," said Dumbledore. "However, recent events must be taken into account.

The room went very still. The Slytherins' smiles faded a little. "Ahem," said Dumbledore. "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes...First - to Mr. Ronald Weasley..." Ron went purple in the face; he looked like a radish with a bad sunburn."...for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points." 

Gryffindor cheers nearly raised the bewitched ceiling; Percy could be heard telling the other prefects, "My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past McGonagall's giant chess set! At last there was silence again.

"Second - to Miss Hermione Granger... for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points." Hermione buried her face in her arms; I strongly suspected she had burst into tears. Gryffindors up and down the table were beside themselves - they were a hundred points up. "Third - to Mr. Harry Potter...with an honorable mention to Katrina who can not unfortunately be awarded points -" 

The room went deadly quiet "- for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."

The din was deafening. Those who could add up while yelling themselves hoarse knew that Gryffindor now had four hundred and seventy-two points-exactly the same as Slytherin. They had tied for the house cup - if only Dumbledore had given Harry just one more point. 

Dumbledore raised his hand. The room gradually fell silent. "There are all kinds of courage," said Dumbledore, smiling. "It takes agreat deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom." 

Someone standing outside the Great Hall might well have thought some sort of explosion had taken place, so loud was the noise that erupted from the Gryffindor table. The four of us stood up to yell and cheer as Neville, white with shock, disappeared under a pile of people hugging him. He had never won so much as a point for Gryffindor before.

Harry, still cheering, nudged Ron in the ribs and pointed at Malfoy, who couldn't have looked more stunned and horrified if he'd just had the Body-Bind Curse put on him.

"Which means, Dumbledore called over the storm of applause, for even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were celebrating the downfall of Slytherin, "we need a little change of decoration." He clapped his hands. In an instant, the green hangings became scarlet and the silver became gold and a towering Gryffindor lion took its place. 

Snape was shaking Professor McGonagall's hand, with a horrible, forced smile. He caught Harry's eye and from what I saw, it was clear that Snape's feelings toward him hadn't changed one jot.

It was the best evening of my life, better than winning at Quidditch, or Christmas, or knocking out mountain trolls...I would never, ever forget tonight.

We had almost forgotten that the exam results were still to come, but come they did. To our great surprise, both Harry and Ron passed with good marks; Hermione and I, of course, had the best grades of the first years and even Neville had scraped through, his good Herbology mark making up for his abysmal Potions one.

And suddenly, our wardrobes were empty, our trunks were packed and notes were handed out to all students, warning us not to use magic over the holidays ("I always hope they'll forget to give us these," said Fred sadly).

We boarded the Hogwarts Express; talking and laughing as the countryside became greener and tidier; eating Bettie Bott's Every Flavor Beans as we sped past Muggle towns; pulling off our wizard robes and putting on jackets and coats; eventually pulling into platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross Station. 

"You must come and stay this summer," said Ron, "All three of you -I'll send you an owl."

Thanks," said Harry and I "We'll need something to look forward to." People jostled us as we moved forward toward the gateway back to the Muggleworld. 

I greeted Harry's uncle who stood waiting for us; not that he acknowledged me.

"Bye, Harry!" I said giving him a giant hug as they pulled up to the Orphanage. "Don't forget to write to me!"

THE END - hope you all enjoyed! Let me know your thoughts! SEQUEL to come soon!


	23. Kicked Out

Katrina's POV

I trudged down the stairs with my trunk trailing behind me as it hit each wooden step with a loud thump thump thump. 

"Get out of here and never come back! You are no longer welcome here anymore!" I heard Mrs. Templeton scream at my back as I walked past where she stood standing with her arms crossed in the middle of the hallway. 

I ignored her as I stalked by with my shoulders high and closed the door behind me with a slam of finality that echoed against the walls of the deserted and trash-littered back-alley. As I did so, I heard her mutter, "good riddance," but I didn't care what that vile and twisted woman had to say about me anymore. I was too numb with shock. I paused, opened my trunk, and fumbled around until I managed to find my wand hidden underneath my clothes. I sighed with relief as I held it in my hands and closed the trunk again.

~Flashback~

"Oi, ugly! What are you doing back here? I thought we got rid of you for good!" My head whipped around as Liza's voice floated through my tiny attic bedroom. I rolled my eyes. I was barely back for more than half an hour and already she had popped out of the woodwork snarling like the rabid rodent that she was.

I sighed, rolled my shoulders back, and turned to face her. I had grown up a lot during my first year at Hogwarts. After fighting a troll, surviving a trip into the Dark Forest, and facing the most evil dude in wizard history, there was no way I was going to let Liza and her cronies continue to intimidate me.

As I gazed upon the cause of many miserable childhood memories, I was torn between the desire to pull my wand out and cast a spell, and the urge to just punch her in the face like she deserved. Neither of which, would end well for either of us. In the end, I just sighed loudly and turned to face her.

"What do you want, Liza?"

"I heard you were sent off to a 'special' school for 'special' kids," she said chuckling. "What happened? Even the rejects rejected you?" I clenched my fists to my side as I resisted the temptation to use my wand. Granted it wasn't even within reach...Before we had left Hogwarts, we had all been warned that magic was forbidden outside of school and I wasn't about to get in trouble my first day back.

"Liza, I'm just here for the summer and then I'm going back. Not that it's any of your business. Now how bout we just try and get through the next couple of months peacefully?" I said in the sweetest voice I could manage. I knew it was a lost cause but I had to try, right?

"Sorry, trash-rag, but that ain't gonna happen. See, this room was given to ME after you left and I don't appreciate having to give it up; even if it is just for the summer." She advanced into the room and cracked her knuckles loudly.

I clenched my teeth and refused to back down. "This room was mine long before it was yours, so no. I'm not leaving." I said in a determined voice.

I saw a surprised look flash across her face; for like a second, before it was replaced with her famous sickening grin of pleasure. I felt myself waver a little as I remembered what usually happened when she acted like this, but compared to a 50 (don't remember the exact height) ft troll, she was like an ant, and I was not going to be scared by her.

My strength wavered as she whistled and opened the door wider, though. Four unfamiliar faces strode confidently into the room and I couldn't help but take a step backwards. I stumbled slightly as the backs of my legs collided with the end of my bed. Okaayyy...so maybe I was just a little scared...these new girls looked as rough as they came and for all I knew, were worse than Liza's old crew.

"Well, don't say I never tried to be 'peaceful', pig-face. I gave you a chance to do things the easy way, but looks like you want the hard road."

I opened my mouth to tell her she should look in a mirror if she wanted to look at a real pig face, but before I could get the words out, the five girls had charged at me all at once.

I was surrounded and forced to back up into the corner. I cursed silently as I realized my stupidity in tucking my wand at the bottom of my trunk. Nothing was safe from prying eyes here and I had unwisely decided that secrecy was more important than safety. Oh and I lied, I wasn't a little scared...I was terrified!

I covered my face as best I could as they all started punching and kicking every surface within their reach. It wasn't long before I was covered in scratches, cuts, and bruises that stained my clothes red. I lost track of how long they were going at it but just as I was reaching the point of blacking out, I felt a strange sensation wash over me.

I lowered my hands from my face as they paused for a breather and met their eyes.

"What the fuck? (Pardon my French :p) is this some kind of trick?" One of the girls sputtered as she met my gaze. I didn't have time to wonder what she was talking about as my body went numb with rage. 

"What kind of demon are you?!" They cried out in fright as they tried to back up. Before I knew what was happening, my hands had stretched out in front of me and I watched in shock as flames shot out of my palms and blasted them backwards into the wall. My face felt like it was burning and as I glanced down at my hands, my eyes were drawn to my hair. It was on fire!

 

The minute I realized what had happened, I felt the anger drain from my body as it was replaced with shock and fear. What had I just done? I touched my hair as it returned to normal; not a burnt strand in sight, as the girls ran screaming out of the room and down the stairs calling out for Mrs. Templeton. 

I stood frozen where I was as my mind raced to comprehend what had happened. None of the books I'd read at Hogwarts had ever mentioned anything like this happening before. Sure, children coming into their powers occasionally set things on fire (like I had proven in the past) but this was a whole nother level...

I was brought out of my thoughts as Mrs. Templeton stormed up the stairs cursing my name. She grabbed me roughly and began screaming words in my face that were beyond comprehension. The meaning behind them was clear though and I knew I was being kicked out. 

~End of Flashback~

I jerked back to reality as I stumbled over a dip in the sidewalk and fell over. I groaned as I bruised my bruises and just lay there sprawled on the ground for a minute before I slowly got up and brushed my knees off. 

I picked up my wand and grabbed a hold of my trunk as Salazar flew down and perched on my shoulder. I looked both ways as I made to cross the street but it was so dark I could barely see. I raise my wand and was about to say lumos before I was knocked back to the ground by a loud screech that pierced the night followed by a strong gust of wind.

I grumbled in irritation as I stood back up. As I looked in front of me my eyes widened as I found myself startled by yet another surprise. 

A double-decker bus had appeared out of nowhere. I looked around in confusion. Where the heck had it come from? The door slid open and a man stepped out towards me.

"Welcome to the Night Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard, where are you headed?"

I opened my mouth and was about to say the first place I could think of; Diagon Alley, when I heard a popping sound behind me and a voice shattered the silence.

"Sorry for any inconvenience, but the lady will not be needing your services tonight." I spun around and pointed my wand at the man who was standing there. He had sharp features and blond hair that fell past his shoulders. I looked at him closer and noticed that he looked familiar. 

Of all the questions that I had flooding my brain, one rose to the surface. "Do you know a Draco Malfoy?"

"Why yes, he happens to be my son." My jaw dropped as I realized this man must be the infamous Lucius Malfoy that Draco mentioned 24/7. I backed up a step as I recalled all the rumors I had heard about him. But I had forgotten I was already standing at the edge of the sidewalk and for the millionth time that night, I felt myself falling.

I never hit the ground. Mr. Malfoy's hand snaked out and pulled me in close before that could happen. I mumbled an uncomfortable, "thank you," as I found myself squashed up against his chest.

He let me go and I sighed with relief. 

"Um...not to be rude, Mr. Malfoy, but what are you doing here exactly?"

"I was just leaving the Ministry when I got word that a student had been discovered using magic. Draco has told me all about you and what happened last year at school. I admit, I have wanted to meet you ever since. My son seems quite fascinated by you and I'm curious as to why." He saw the look of confusion on my face. 

"I don't know if Draco has mentioned, but I'm also on the Board of Governors of Hogwarts and as you are a student there, I have influence over what happens to you as a consequence of the events that have transpired tonight. So it was more than pure curiosity that brought me here."

I hung my head in shame. "I'm really sorry about that! I don't even know what or how it happened! I swear I didn't mean to do it!"

"Calm down, child! You're not in any kind of trouble. The Ministry only sent me to handle the muggles and make sure you were alright."

I frowned at this. "But...I still don't understand. Why you? I thought they had magical law enforcement officers that handled this kind of thing?" 

"Would you prefer that I call them down here instead?" I shivered at the chill tone in his voice.

"N-no of course not. I am incredibly grateful that you stepped in! I'm just a little confused is all."

"I guess that's too be expected. Anyways, I have wiped the muggle children's memories so no harm done. It wouldn't be a good idea to stay here, however. You would be welcome to stay at the Malfoy Manor for the rest of the summer if you would like? I'm sure Draco would love to have some company his own age."

I blinked at this strange offer...but I didn't really have any other options, did I? It's not like I would be welcome to stay with Harry's relatives and there was no other place I knew of since my newly discovered grandfather hadn't wanted me staying at Hogwarts; as it would have drawn 'unwanted attention.'

"...why...why thank you for the generous offer, Mr. Malfoy....I-I would be delighted to do so, if you're sure it's not too much of an imposition on you and your family!"

"Not at all, not at all. Have you got everything you need? If so, I'd like to head back now." I nodded my head and grabbed onto the arm he extended to me and we apparated away from the Orphanage.


	24. Summer with the Malfoy’s

Katrina's POV

When I opened my eyes I found myself standing in front of a huge black-iron gate that blocked the Malfoy's Manor from unwanted visitors.

Mr. Malfoy performed a complicated charm that involved a series of wand movements and the gates opened with a loud squeal.

There was a gravel path leading up to the front door and we walked the length of it in silence. The minute we reached the door, it was opened by a strange creature I had never seen before. From what I'd heard about them, I gathered the creature was a house elf. I grimaced as I looked him over. He was wearing what seemed to be a tattered rag that appeared to never have been washed. I smiled kindly at him as we entered the house and he beamed up at me in return. 

"Hello, I'm Kat. What's your name?"

"I is Dobby, ma'am." He said happily as he gave a low bow.

"Katrina, no need to waste time talking to the help, come join me in the parlor room. Draco and my wife are waiting for us there." I waved to Dobby and chased down the long hallway after Mr. Malfoy.

I saw him disappear into one of the side rooms and went to follow.

I had barely stepped through when there were two loud gasps. 

"What in Merlin's name happened to you, dear?" A female voice cried out. 

"Yeah, Katrina, you look horrible!" I heard a second and familiar voice add.

"Aww thanks, Draco! Just what every girl loves to hear." I said as I rolled my eyes and tried to rub some of the blood away. It was a lost cause.

"Here, sweetheart. Let me help you with that!" The woman said as she stood up and walked over to me. 

"Scourgify," she murmured, pointing to my clothes. I watched in amazement as the blood started to vanish and my clothes were left clean.

"I'll have to remember that one! Very useful!" 

The woman who I took to be Malfoy's mother looked me over with a critical eye as she clucked disapprovingly. She pointed her wand at me again and muttered a series of spells. 

"There. I think that's the best we can hope for, the rest will just have to heal with time. You poor dear! My name is Narcissa, by the way. DOBBY!"

Dobby scurried into the room. Go and cook Katrina something to eat! When it's ready have it brought to the room we had made ready for her." She turned to Draco. "Draco, honey, can you please show Katrina to her room?"

I followed Draco out of the room. He lead me up two flights of stairs, down three hallways, and then made a right. I smacked into his back as he stopped abruptly.

"This will be your room while you stay here. It's right across from mine so...if-if you need anything feel free to knock on my door or just holler for our house elf. 

"Um...thanks, Malfoy. I really appreciate everything your family is doing for me!" I whispered; though I still wasn't sure why they were being so helpful all of a sudden. "I honestly don't know what I would have done...though it was surprising when your father showed up and offered! Do you have any idea why?"

"No, he doesn't...doesn't really talk to me," he admitted as he looked down at the floor. I felt a wave of empathy wash over me. It sounded like he didn't have as glorious a relationship with his father as he made out. It wasn't very surprising, but all the same... "Anyways, it's no big deal; you being here! As you can see, we are not exactly tight on room - besides, it'll be nice to finally have someone to hang out with who isn't an idiot like Crabbe and Goyle are."

"Wow, Malfoy! That was almost a compliment!" I said as I grinned at him.

He laughed and then paused as he looked at me. Next thing I knew, I was being wrapped in his arms as he gave me a gentle hug.

"Um...what, what was that for, exactly?" I whispered in shock, not sure if that had really just happened.

"No reason, you just looked like you could use a hug. I'm guessing this wasn't how you expected your day to go when you got on the train this morning. Would you like some tea or hot cocoa? My mom always likes a warm drink when she's had a hard day? or is upset...or anytime really. I mean I'm not really...I don't...don't really know what to say...other than I'm really sorry you had such a crummy day?" I couldn't help chuckling at that last part. 

"Yeah, that's one way to describe it...um I actually would love a mug of hot cocoa if it's not too much trouble?" I said hesitantly. It was one of my favorite drinks; even better than pumpkin juice.

"Of course not," Malfoy said as he grinned in relief. "DOB-"

"No, no...you don't have to bother him, I'm sure he's busy enough fixing me up a quick dinner. We can just go down to the kitchen and make it ourselves! It'll be fun!" I said as I glanced at Malfoy out of the corner of my eye. He was acting so different right now and while I wasn't sure of it was a trick yet, I was definitely interested in seeing if there was more to this boy than I originally thought.

"Umm...o-okayy? But - I-I've never actually made it before..." I heard him mumble embarrassedly as he lead the way towards the kitchen.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I always just have Dobby make it for me," he said facetiously. While the comment rubbed me the wrong way a little; I chose to let it slide. After all, I was a guest in HIS house. I was still confused as hell, but I wasn't going to return their unexpected kindness by being rude.

"Well, I can teach you if you want! It's really not that hard!"

"Uhh - yeah...yeah I think I'd like that, Katrina," he said giving me another hesitant smile.

We walked into the kitchen where Dobby was dashing around as he made me dinner. 

"Oh! Dobby! You didn't have to go through all this trouble, I would have been fine with a simple sandwich or something!" I said as I noticed him chopping up ingredients for an elaborate stew.

"Is' no trouble, no trouble at all! Dobby is happy to serve!" 

I shook my head and asked him if he could point me in the direction of the cocoa powder, hot water, milk, and the two mugs that we would need. I showed Malfoy how to get the perfect measurement of a cocoa powder:water:milk ratio and we sat at the table in the middle of the kitchen as Dobby finished making the soup.

"Soooo...Malfoy...um, we've never really talked much; except for when your saying something rude to my friends...this is...um...nice?" I said, uncertain of what to say now.

"About that...um look, I won't deny it, I really don't like your friends at all and the feeling is mutual...but...I would like to get to know you better since we will be spending or whole summer together...if that's alright with you?" He held his palm up at chest height as he said, "I promise to keep all negative comments to myself!"

"And when you slip up, no matter where or when, I get to whack you in the face with a pillow?" I asked with a smirk.

"Deal!" He agreed and we shook hands on it. I could tell he didn't think much about what he was agreeing to as he said it and grinned as I thought about what might happen if and when the time ever came.

"Oh my Merlin! This soup smells amazing, Dobby!" I cried out as he placed two bowls in front of us. 

We ate in a comfortable silence and finished our hot drinks. By the time we had finished, I was exhausted and couldn't contain my yawns.

"Looks like it's time for you to be getting to bed!" Malfoy laughed.

"Couldn't agree more!" He lead the way back to our rooms and we said goodnight to each other. Before I could forget, I grabbed a piece of parchment, a bottle of ink, and a quill from my trunk; which had been delivered to the room while we ate dinner, and wrote Harry a letter explaining everything that happened and asking for his opinion. 

I opened the window by my bed and Salazar landed on the sill. "Take this to Harry, Sal," I whispered. I watched him fly off into the night and finally turned and got ready for bed. I was too tired by then to notice a small creature wave Salazar back down and steal the letter that was meant for Harry. (Dobby of course!)

********************************************

The weeks flew by and I slowly got to know the better side of Draco. He could actually be really sweet and funny when he wanted and we spent our days exploring the fields and surrounding land that bordered the Manor. 

I continued to write letters to Harry but I never got a response....

One day, Draco found me sitting on a rock by a small pond as I tried to get the heart to try once more to write to Harry.

"What's wrong, Kat?" He said as he sat down besides be, our shoulders brushing.

"What makes you think anything is wrong?"

"Oh come on! I know you well enough by now to know when you're worrying about something! I'm here for you, you know you can tell me anything."

"It's just, Harry hasn't responded to any of my letters! How come? Does he really not care about what happened? I mean, at the least I would have expected him to say something about the fact that I'm spending the summer at your place! I just...I miss my best friend...and...and what if his lack of response means he doesn't wanna be friends anymore?!" I felt tears slide down my cheeks.

Draco rubbed my back comfortingly. "Kat, you know Harry cares about you! Did you ever think that maybe there's something stopping him from writing? I've heard those muggles that he lives with aren't very nice. Besides, you've always got me as a best friend," he stuck his tongue out and I giggled.

"Oh, I hadn't even thought about that..." I said slowly, still not sure how to feel about Harry right now. Then I realized the meaning behind what Draco had just said and grinned up at him. He came to the same realization at the same time.

"Look at me! I'm defending, Potter! Of all people! Did you ever think you'd see the day?" We burst out laughing. 

I froze as Draco looked at me intensely. "What? Is my hair a mess or something?" I asked nervously.

"No," he answered as he leaned in and wiped the remaining tears off the sides of my face. "Your hair looks perfect." The amount of eye contact got to be too much for me and I looked down.

"You know what, why am I worrying about him. If he can't be bothered to respond to a single letter then I might as well stop sending them!" I said as I confidently tore up the parchment and tossed it into the pond. 

Draco reached down and helped me back up and we ran off back to the house.

********************************************

Before I knew it, September first was only a week away - 3 days...2 days...1 day. I packed up all my new school supplies; Draco and his father had gone to Diagon Alley without me to collect all of our new things. I would have liked to tag along too but Narcissa had wanted to have a 'girls' day. 

I wasn't  going to say no to my hostess and we ended up going shopping for new dresses and then out to tea. It was the fanciest place I'd ever been and I felt out of place, but Narcissa was sweet about it and taught me the way to use all the utensils and how to present myself like a 'proper lady'. I wasn't really sure if I could hold up the act as constantly and magnificently as she did, but it was kind of fun to live it up for a day at least.

********************************************

"Hey, Draco, I'm gonna go see if I can find Ron and Hermione, ok? I'd really like to catch up with them. But I'll see you when we get to the castle?"

"Not even 5 minutes and you already wanna leave me?" He joked as he nudged my shoulder playfully.

"Go on, I still don't get what you see in them, but I know better than to stop you."

I laughed and walked out into the isle. I walked down the length and eventually spotted Hermione and Neville.

"Hey, you two!" I screamed in excitement as I hugged them both. "Have you seen Ron and...Harry?" If either of them noticed my hesitation at saying his name, they didn't comment. Instead, they just shook their heads. 

"Well tell me all about your summer! I wanna hear what you've been up to!"

We spent the rest of the train ride exchanging stories. They were both shocked when I told them about what had happened at the Orphanage and even more so when I told them I had spent my summer with Draco.

"Well that explains the bruises!" Said Hermione as she glanced down at the pale purple marks that still covered the length of my arm.

"You actually managed to get along with MALFOY all summer?" Neville cried out.

"Yes, he's actually really nice when you get to know him," nicer than certain people I know I thought silently as my mind landed on Harry again. I shook my head and refocused.

"But that's not the important part, have either of you heard of hair flaming up like that before? Or the ability to create fire in your palms?!" As I said the last part, I cupped my hands together, concentrated for a second, and when I opened my eyes, a ball of fire was floating there. I had been practicing in secret over the summer when I had time. While Draco was now my friend, I didn't want word to reach his father, who I was still unsure about so I had kept it a secret from him even though we were now friends.

 

They gasped. "No! I've never come across anything like this before in any books I've read!" Said Hermione.

"Neville, what about you?" He shook his head.

"You guys have to promise not to tell anyone about what I showed you! Not even Harry and Ron! I'll tell them myself if I want to, but for the time being I really don't want everyone knowing." They nodded their heads to show they understood.

"Hmmm...maybe Dumbledore will know!" I said suddenly realizing I was finally going to get to see my grandfather again! It felt so weird to think of him in that way, but yet it warmed my heart. I extinguished the flames and reached a hand to touch my silver Phoenix necklace. Last year, he had given it to me for Christmas. It apparently had once belonged to my grandmother and then been passed down to my mother, and now it was mine. It was my most prized possession. 

Later on as we got closer to Hogwarts, we kicked Neville out of the compartment as we changed out of our muggle clothes and put on our robes.

The train slowly pulled into the station and I squealed with happiness and grabbed Hermione and Neville's hands. I couldn't wait to get back to Hogwarts. It was the closest thing to home I'd ever known.


	25. The Diary

Katrina's POV

I hopped off the train and looked about me. "So where do we go if we aren't following Hagrid across the lake?"

Hermione pointed to a number of driverless carriages and we hopped on and it pulled us off towards the castle. 

As I sat down next to Hermione and Neville at the Gryffindor table, I craned my neck every which way to try and spot Harry and Ron. I was beginning to get a little worried. I should have seen them by now, even if I didn't want to see the black-haired half of the duo.

I was distracted from my search of the table when Minnie walked in with the new first years. Since I wasn't affiliated with any one house, I clapped every time a first year got sorted. While watching their excited faces was uplifting, watching the hat decide exactly where to place them, was not. I admit, I was jealous that everyone had the honor of being sorted except me...

I was distracted from my depressing thoughts as my grandfather stood up and addressed the hall. He didn't say much as he knew we all wanted to get started on the feast.

I chatted with the other Gryffindors as I ate steadily though 3 plates of food and then desert. The whole time, however, I was aware that two people were missing, but I tried to focus on enjoying the excellent food and company. 

Eventually the din died down and the plates were cleared as grandfather stood up again and listed the usual warnings and announcements. The only one that I found very interesting was the announcement of our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Some fellow by the name of Gilderoy Lockhart. If you ask me, he seemed a little full of himself. But I decided to wait and hold my judgement till after I'd actually had class with him.

That is, until he met my gaze and winked at me...gross. Ok now I'm judging! What was a teacher doing winking at a student! Or was that just something he did all the time? I mean, he did look like the kind of smarmy git who would do that kind of thing...

Hermione and Neville walked with me back to my room before continuing on to the Gryffindor common room. I was tired but I wanted too make sure I was prepared for tomorrow so I opened my trunk and began to unpack my things. 

As I stacked my textbooks on a bookshelf by my bed, I realized that there was a strange black book that was smaller than all the others and didn't appear to be a textbook at all. It looked like a diary of some sort and had the name: TM Riddle stamped on the back, but the pages were empty. Hmm, I doubted that Lucius would ever stoop 'low' enough to by anything second-hand so I concluded that he probably had just seen a vintage diary that he thought I might like. TM Riddle could just be the maker or company owner or something.

I sat on my bed as I examined the book further looking for more clues. Eventually I gave up and reached for a quill and decided to write something in it. I dipped my quill in the ink and hovered it over the first page as I thought what to write. With everything that had been going on lately the only thing I could think of was to scribble a: ?

As I watched the ink dry, my jaw dropped when it disappeared entirely. Before I could register what had happened, new words had replaced my single symbol.

Who is this?

I gasped and stared at the words. This was definitely no ordinary diary. What had Lucius bought me! I thought about it quickly and decided I might as well just play along at first and gather more information.

My name is Katrina, I'm a student here at Hogwarts. It's our first day back from summer break!What's your name.

I sucked in my breath as I waited nervously. Soon enough my words had disappeared; only to be replaced with new ones.

Hello, Katrina, my name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?

I don't know! I just found it among the textbooks that a friend's father had picked up for me. 

What was this man's name?

Lucius Malfoy, why?

No reason, now Katrina, how bout you tell me a little bit about yourself and I'll return the favor?

Ok. Um, like I said, I'm a student here at Hogwarts and I'm in my 2nd year. What about you?

I was a student here at Hogwarts myself, 50 years ago. What house are you in?

The hat refused to sort me...

How very odd!

I know! It was so embarrassing!

Katrina, how come you didn't tell me your last name?

That's because I don't have one Tom. And you can just call me Kat.

Well, Kat, how can you not have a last name? I admit to confusion.

Well I don't know who my father is and I can't ask my mother anymore. She was one of the only people who knew. 

Why can't you ask your mother I'm sure if you asked nicely she would tell you!

She's dead. Voldemort killed her soon after I was born. He told me so last year before Harry and I defeated him. Also Dumbledore says I'm not old enough yet to know...

There was a long pause before the next words came.

That old fool, sounds just like something he'd say. Now what is this you mentioned about Voldemort and someone named Harry?

Ugh he is, well was my best friend last year; don't really know what we are right now. Last year we discovered that Voldemort was after this stone that would give immortality and turn metal to gold and so we stopped him. He's even more famous then he was before!

What was he famous for? 

Well apparently Voldemort tried to kill him when he was born but the curse backfired on him and he disappeared for 13 years. And like I said, Harry and I defeated him last year! But I don't know about this year. He didn't respond to a single letter that I sent him over the summer!

How very rude of him.

That's what I think! I was beat up by a bunch of idiot girls over the summer and kicked out. I could have really used my best friend to talk to and he ignored me!

Well, I will never ignore you, Kat, and you can tell me anything you'd like.

Really?

Of course.

Thanks Tom! Your a great friend. I'm glad I got to meet you.

And I as well am honored to have met you, Kat.

I'm getting kind of tired now and have classes tomorrow so I'm going to go to sleep now. Goodnight.

Goodnight, Kat. Sweet dreams.

I closed the book and laid down in bed with a smile. It finally looked like I had someone to talk to! Draco was great and all, but Tom was...well, Tom was Tom.

********************************************

In-Line Comments

\- Okay, so technically didn't Harry see his parents die...so wouldn't he have seen the thestrals before the 5th book? That always confused me, because as he gets older he remembers more and more about their death or can people only see them if they can perfectly recall the moment they saw someone die? Just food for thought, comment your thoughts below


	26. First Day Back

Katrina's POV

I woke up the next day, took a quick shower, then met up with Hermione at the Gryffindor table. I was about to tell her about my new friend Tom, when I finally spotted them. I crossed my arms and glared at the boy that stood in front of me.

"Hey, Kat!" He said ruffling his hair and grinning down at me. "How was your summer?"

How was my...how was my summer?! Ohhh the nerve of that boy astounded me sometimes. How could he just stand there and act like he hadn't just ignored me when I needed him? I rubbed the bruises on my arms subconsciously as I just stared back at him. They were still sore, but thankfully, our school robes hid them from view.

"And where exactly have you two been?" I spat out as I raised my brows and continued to give him the dirtiest look I could muster.

Harry tilted his head in confusion at the tone in my voice. "Didn't you hear? We had trouble getting through the barrier? As fast as gossip travels around here, I would have thought everyone would know by now. It wouldn't let us through so we decided to use this flying car that Ron's dad had enchanted and in the end we crashed into the Whomping Willow. We missed the feast and McGonagall gave us detention." Harry explained as he sat down next to me. I scootched a little bit away; not comfortable yet with him being so close and hoping he wouldn't notice.

"Well, that was stupid. You guys could have seriously injured yourselves not to mention been expelled!" I burst out, feeling both worried and annoyed at the same time. Harry peered over at me but decided to do the right thing and kept his gob shut and ate his breakfast in silence as I turned to my left and talked to Hermione about our new schedules.

Harry's POV

Ron and I joined Kat and Hermione at breakfast the next day. My heart was still racing from the shock of our crash with the whomping willow. And I still didn't understand why we hadn't been able to get through to Platform 9 3/4! Not to mention Dobby getting me locked up in my room all summer till Ron and his brothers broke me out! It had definitely been an action-packed summer.

"Hey, Kat!" I said as I tried to fix my messy hair while grinning down at her.

She crossed her arms and glared at me as she said, "And where exactly have you two been?" I tilted my head in confusion. Her normally warm twinkling blue eyes had turned to stormy seas as she stared at me with a stony expression. I blinked. It seemed as if she was mad at me for some reason, but I couldn't think of any reason why!

I explained to her about the barrier not letting Ron and I through and then how we missed the feast because we had crashed into the Whomping Willow. 

"Well, that was stupid. You guys could have seriously injured yourselves not to mention been expelled!" She cried out as a flicker of worry flashed across her face. My heart lightened as I thought maybe I had misread the situation, but it quickly sank back down as her face settled back into a glare. 

I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong but couldn't get the words out and just sat and ate my breakfast in silence as she turned and talked to Hermione. I made a mental note to see if Hermione knew what was wrong after classes were over for the day. 

Katrina's POV

The first class of the day was Herbology. I hopped up and down in excitement as Professor Sprout lead us to Greenhouse 3. We'd only been working in Greenhouse 1 last year, but this one housed more dangerous plants and I couldn't wait to learn more about them. I turned and grinned at Neville. Herbology was his best subject and I knew that he was feeling just as ecstatic as me.

On our way over, I noticed the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor talking to Professor Sprout. He noticed me watching him and gave me another wink. I blinked. I really couldn't tell if this was his normal behavior or directed at me in particular. 

We entered the greenhouse to find a long table covered with earthen pots. Some were empty and others contained baby mandrakes. They were dreadfully useful in making a restorative draft to revive petrified people but their cries were deadly. 

Professor Sprout explained that since these were only babies, their cry would only knock us unconscious for a little while; but all the same, she ordered everyone to put our ear muffs on before setting about repotting them.

I glanced over at Harry, Ron, and Hermione as they went off to one side of the room. I still wasn't ready to forgive him quite just yet, especially when he hadn't even apologized or given any explanation! He was acting as if nothing had happened! How dare he ignore me when I needed him most...only to return and act like everything was fine! Maybe I'm overreacting to the situation but I can't help how I feel! It's not like know enough about relationships to know if behavior like his was normal and not supposed to be a big deal!

I partnered with Neville and together we repotted our baby mandrakes. I laughed loudly as I watched Draco's mandrake bite his finger. 

After class ended, we filed out of the greenhouse and Draco joined me as we walked to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Aww, did poor Drakey get an owie?" I giggled as I watched him suck on his finger to dull the pain. 

He bent down and grabbed a handful of fallen leaves. In the time it took for them to travel through the air, I managed to wave my wand and cast a quick spell and they flew right back and smacked him in the face. I chuckled as I picked out a leaf that had gotten stuck in his blond hair.

"Maybe I did...but a kiss from the princess would make it all better," his eyes sparkled with a mischievous gleam as he stretched the injured finger out to me. 

I rolled my eyes and slapped his hand away. "In your dreams, Draco!" 

"Well than I shall look forward to falling asleep tonight, princess," he winked as he clutched his stinging hand to his chest. 

I blushed as I always did when people called me that. I cursed Fred silently every time I heard it. He had used it one morning as a passing joke - but the name had spread amongst my friends and now I was stuck with it...I guess I should consider myself lucky that the entire school hadn't caught on yet. Otherwise I would surely die of embarrassment!

I lifted my head up confidently and countered, "well if you need help falling asleep, I'd be happy to help. I'm sure I could convince Fred or George to let me borrow a beaters bat to hit you over the head with!" 

"Kat! You wouldn't dare!" Draco said looking shocked. It was my turn to wink at him.

"Oh, yes I would, Draco!" I gave him an evil grin and his eyes widened in mock hurt.

I heard a loud chuckle come from behind me. "I wouldn't underestimate her, Malfoy. She can be quite violent when she wants to be!" Neither of us had noticed that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been walking behind us listening every word we said.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you it wasn't polite to eavesdrop, Potter! Oh wait...you don't have one!" I conjured up a pillow and wacked him hard with it. He looked at me stunned.

"That, was NOT a very nice thing to say, remember our deal? You agreed, anytime, anyplace," I couldn't help but laugh at the look on his face and after a long pause he joined in. 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all stood there completely shocked at what I had just done. They didn't know about the deal we'd made over the summer and their reaction made it funnier than ever. 

"What are you three laughing at!" Malfoy scowled as he saw them laughing at him. "Get on her wrong side and she'll do the same to you in a heartbeat!" He glared at them and tugged my arm as he turned and made to continue walking to class. 

"Owwww!" I gasped as his hand landed on one particularly sore bruise and a sharp pain shot through my body. Draco stopped abruptly and carefully lifted up the section of my robes that hid my wrist; just enough to reveal the discolored skin that covered the entire area right below the palm of my hand and wrapped around to where my wrist bone met my thumb. It was one of the more painful bruises; the full weight of Liza's foot having slammed hard on top of it.

I heard Harry gasp as he saw the faint bruise.

"I am so sorry, Kat! I shouldn't have let their reactions affect me so much...the last thing I ever want to do is cause you pain. Can you forgive me?" Draco whispered softly to me so the others couldn't hear. 

I managed a quick nod of my head as I clenched my teeth against the pain and fought to control the tears that had sprung to my eyes.

"Get your filthy hands of her, Malfoy. Hurt her like that again and I swear I'll kill you!" Harry yelled furiously as he stepped forward and shoved Draco away from me.

Draco's eyes flashed angrily. "Don't you dare threaten, ME, Potter! I will hold my friend's hand if I want to."

"Friends? Don't make me laugh, Malfoy. The way you treated her last year was anything but friendly. Why would she ever want to be friends with a slimy git like you! A real gentlemen would NEVER bruise a lady! - Now come here, Kat! You're walking to class with us and we are going to sit as far away from this loser as we can get."

"Me! You think I would ever do THAT to her?! I would never...Why you little..." I frantically motioned for Draco to shut up. I never liked him or anyone else talking about my bruises, but I certainly didn't want him bringing them up around Harry. If he couldn't be bothered to care over the summer, than why should he now? Especially after what he just said!

I rounded on Harry as I felt a strong fury rise within me. It was the same feeling I had over the summer and I quickly glanced down before returning to stare coldly at Harry. In the back of my mind, I could feel a sense of pride as I saw that I had managed to keep my hair from flaming up this time. 

"What would you know about friendship, Harry! You ignored me all summer long while Draco stuck around and was there for me. So don't you dare assume to know how I feel about him...and another thing -" I stepped forward and poked him hard in the chest.

"Do NOT think yourself so high and mighty that you have the right to order me around like a pet. I will be friends with whoever I want and will sit wherever I like."

I spun around and stomped off to class with Draco trailing after me. When we finally arrived, I dashed off to the back after shooting Hermione an apologetic look; we normally sat together in the front, but I knew that doing so right now would mean being near to Harry as well.

Harry's POV

Hermione, Ron, and I were making our way to our next class when we found ourselves walking behind Kat and Malfoy. I frowned and sped up so I could hear what they were saying. If Malfoy was being mean to her again, he'd have me to deal with!

The three of us chuckled under our breaths as the conversation unfurled in front of us. When she threatened to hit him over the head with a bat, I couldn't help but laugh loudly as a mental image played out in my mind. I'd forgotten how fiery Kay could act sometimes! 

I stepped forward; deciding to offer Malfoy a warning. My laughter ended abruptly as Malfoy's next words registered in my mind. How dare he talk about my mom! 

Before I could punch him though, the craziest thing happened that froze the three of us in our tracks as we burst into laughter again. Kat had conjured of a pillow and whacked him in the face with it! I had no idea how she'd done it; she was always using spells the rest of us didn't know, but I don't think I'll ever forget the image of Malfoy's face as he realized what she'd done! It was just about the funniest thing I'd ever seen.

I didn't pay attention to the words Malfoy threw back at us, but I hissed as he grabbed Kat's hand and made to drag her off with him. How dare he touch her after all the torment he'd put her through last year! Granted he hadn't been as mean to her as he was to Ron, Hermione, and I, but there had been plenty of times where I could tell he'd managed to upset her. 

I clenched my hands into fists as I heard her cry out in pain. If it wasn't for Ron holding me back, I would have tackled him to the ground. My jaw dropped as I watched him slowly raise the sleeve of the arm he'd grabbed. Even from this distance, I could see the pale purple-black bruise that had started to form on her wrist. 

My blood rain ice-cold as my eyes narrowed at the thought of him grabbing her so hard it would mark her beautiful skin. 

"Get your filthy hands of her, Malfoy. Hurt her like that again and I swear I'll kill you!" I yelled furiously as I stepped forward and shoved the git away from my best friend.

I didn't bother to listen to what he shouted next but my ears perked up as I heard him refer to Kat as his friend. Hah! As if she'd ever be friends with a jerk like him! She was too kind to ever want to associate with such a foul-mannered person!

"Friends? Don't make me laugh, Malfoy. The way you treated her last year was anything but friendly. Why would she ever want to be friends with a slimy git like you! A real gentlemen would NEVER bruise a lady! - Now come here, Kat! You're walking to class with us and we are going to sit as far away from this loser as we can get." I exclaimed as I lost control of my anger; my eyes landing on her wrist again. She'd covered it back up but I couldn't get the image out of my mind.

"Me! You think I did that to her?! I would never...Why you little..." I heard him say before suddenly stopping. Wait, what? I looked back and forth between Kat and Malfoy as she motioned for him to stop talking. What was going on? Malfoy seemed genuinely hurt by the idea that I would think him capable of hurting Kat, but if he hadn't, then who had? 

I opened my mouth to ask her where she had gotten the bruise from if not Malfoy, but before I could get the words out, she had turned to me and started yelling. I froze as her fury washed over me. I had never seen her get this mad before, it was terrifying. 

The look in her eyes was blood-curdling...and speaking of her eyes...I blinked in confusion as she stepped closer and poked my chest. Her eyes...I couldn't be sure if I was just imagining it, but instead of the familiar blue, they seemed to be flecked with bits of a deep crimson red. I shook my head as she stormed off with Malfoy following behind. It must have been a trick of the light.

I sighed sadly as I watched her race to the back and sit next to Malfoy. She normally sat in between Hermione and I in the front so I knew she was trying to get away from me...

Our new Professor; Gilderoy Lockhart, entered the room with a frantic flourish and I rolled my eyes. While everyone else seemed enamored with him, I couldn't stand him. My encounter with him at Flourish and Blotts and earlier before Herbology, had been enough for me to know that I did not like him one bit.

The class was a complete joke. Lockhart started off by passing out this ridiculous pop quiz full of random questions about himself to see if we had read the books. Ron and I shared disbelieving looks and just scrawled random answers across our papers. 

He then collected them and scanned them over. His giant smiled dropped a little as he complained how no one had answered right. That is until he came across Hermione and Kat's papers. Hermione blushed a brilliant red as he complimented her but I could tell that Kat was unimpressed. I smiled at her bored expression; happy that she unlike Hermione and the others, was smart enough to see through his act. 

The rest of the class was a disaster. Lockhart had decided to bring a cage full of Cornish Pixies which made Seamus Finnagan laugh since they weren't known to be very dangerous. But the next thing we knew, Lockhart had opened the cage and ordered us to try and catch them. They flew around the classroom causing chaos as everyone ran out. Hermione, Ron and I were the only ones left besides Neville, Kat, and Malfoy. 

Neville had been strung up to a hook on the wall as was struggling to get down and Malfoy was leading the way as he and Kat weaved through the mess of overturned desks on their way to the door.

I tore my eyes away from the sight of the two of them as a pixie flew over to me and started tugging on my ear as another grabbed onto Hermione's hair. 

"Immobulus!" I glanced over to see Kat with her wand out as she stood next to Neville who she had apparently helped down already. Her eyes met mine and we stared at each other. Then she looked away and said, "They should be easy enough to capture now. See you later Hermione, Ron, Neville!" Her eyes landed on mine again and formed into slits as our eyes met. 

Without another word, she spun around, grabbed Malfoy's hand, and dragged him out of the room. 

Katrina's POV

Ugh, idiot Potter! Why'd he have to be so irritating! Trying to tell me what to do and who I could be friends with, even though he had ignored me all summer! Who was he to act like he suddenly cared about me again! I sat by Draco in Defense Against the Dark Arts, still too angry to want anything to do with Harry.

Lockhart passed out these ridiculous tests with dumb ass questions. He winked again at me as he handed me my quiz and I scrunched up my nose in disgust. His hand lingered on mine and I repressed the urge to shudder as he stroked it lightly when no one was noticing. What was this man's problem! If I didn't know better, I'd think he was trying to hit on me! 

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Katrina's POV

After dinner was over, I found Hermione and Ron and we got started on our homework as we sat at one of the tables in the common room. I knew my work was not at its' best, but I had other things on my mind. I couldn't stop thinking about Kat and Malfoy - how I had somehow managed to royally screw things up between us. I waited till the room emptied and it was just the three of us, before I finally brought it up.

"Hermione, do you know how she got the bruise on her wrist; if it really wasn't from Malfoy?" I asked as she ended her last essay with a flick of her quill. She looked at me and sighed heavily as she closed her book.

"Of course Malfoy didn't do that to her! You already knew that! Honestly, Harry! I know you don't like him, but that was no reason to use what happened to her to justify what you said to him. I don't like her being friends with him either, but that's her choice and if you really were her friend, you wouldn't have brought up her bruises at all -" I frowned as she added an 's' to the end of the word. "- It's quite clear that she doesn't like talking about it. Twisting everything for your own personal advantage in such a crass and chauvinistic manner was not a smart move."

"Hermione, what on earth are you talking about - half of what you just said wasn't even English! I have no idea how she got that bruise! Can someone please tell me what's going on? I'm completely lost!" I glanced at Ron who shrugged his shoulders looking just as clueless.

"Do you really expect me to believe that, Harry? She told me she wrote to you about it - later that very night in fact. I know you didn't answer the letters that I sent, but I figured that even if you had forgotten to reply to mine, you wouldn't have been so unaware as to not respond to hers! She told me she had tried writing to you all summer but that you never wrote back. Seriously, I know both you and Ron don't really understand girls and emotions very well, but after what she went through, she really needed a friend. So yeah...I can see how her and Malfoy connected over the summer. She was right when she said he was there for her when you weren't." She shook her head and tutted disapprovingly. 

I stared at her, shocked at the venomous tone in her voice. Looks like I was loosing friends right and left! This was crazy!

"Hermione...I - I really have no clue what you are talking about or how she got that bruise! I don't understand why no one will tell me what happened? Yes I obviously hate the idea that she was hurt, but it didn't even look that bad!"

"Didn't look that bad! Merlin's pants, Harry! Have you SEEN her?" 

"Of course I've seen her, we had class with her all day! Don't give me that look, Hermione! I'm not trying to be insensitive, but from what I saw, it wasn't that serious - though I'm gonna have somethin to say to whoever hurt her. I just...don't know what to say...it didn't even look like Malfoy grabbed her that hard; though he's a dead man for causing her pain but that's besides the point! You still haven't explained what actually happened or why the heck she and Malfoy are acting all chummy. I mean that bruise doesn't look more than a day or two old and you and her are acting like he's been spending weeks with her! Which isn't even possible because she spent the summer at the Orphanage! So what the heck did Ron and I miss in the one day we were gone! Did something happen on the train? I want to know why you and Kat seem to think I'm being such a horrible friend!" 

I couldn't remember ever having talked so much at once and I was breathing heavily by the end. I hadn't meant to ramble but that's just how confused and hurt I was feeling. I mean, how could Hermione or Kat think so horribly of me!

Hermione's eyes widened as I finished ranting. Ron chuckled nervously into the silence, "woah, Harry, that's the most I've ever heard you say!"

We all sat there not saying a word until we all got up as if on cue and moved to sit on the floor in front of the fire.

"Harry...do you really mean to tell me that you don't know what happened to her over the summer?"

"Of course I don't know! I spent my summer locked in my room after a house elf decided to stop me from coming back to Hogwarts and got me in trouble with my uncle. It was so unfair! I was stuck in my room until Ron, Fred, and George broke me out! So no, no I DON'T know what the hell is going on. Why would I? I didn't get a single letter from any of you all summer!" I burst out in frustration.

"Wait - Harry I already told you that wasn't true! I wrote tons of letters asking you to come visit for the summer, remember? That's the whole reason my brothers and I decided to visit and see what was wrong when you didn't answer! Didn't you say it was that house elf's fault? Something about stealing your letters?" Ron spoke up.

I felt a rush of heat flood my body that hadn't come from the fireplace as a sinking feeling filled my heart. How could I have forgotten about Dobby stealing my letters! 

Hermione looked from Ron to me. "Hold on, so you're saying that you never received any of mine or Kat's letters?" Hermione exclaimed in surprise.

"No, I didn't! - Wait...so the two of you were writing to me as well? I thought it had just been Ron! If I ever get my hands on that house elf I'm gonna kill him!" I growled out as I contemplated what horrible event I had missed hearing about because of him.

"Oh, oh, Harry, I'm so sorry! I had no idea you honestly didn't know! I thought you were just letting your feelings towards Malfoy cloud your judgement - that you were just jealous she spent her summer at Malfoy's place!" Hermione cried out as she gave me a quick hug in apology. It didn't matter if she had been upset with me though, I was too worried about Kat.

"You mean to tell me she was with the whole rotten lot of em' at their place - all summer long?" Ron yelled in surprise. Hermione shushed him, but turned to look at me, her expression sad.

"Oh, Harry," she breathed out slowly. "This is horrible! It's just like in Romeo and Juliet...everything's been misinterpreted and screwed up because of a stupid letter! Well, letters in your case..."

"What's Romet and Julio?" Ron asked in confusion.

"RomeO and JuliET, Ron! And it's this muggle story where both of them ended up dying because of this letter that never got delivered and -" 

"Hermione! Can you please focus on what it is exactly that I missed?" 

"Yes of course. Sorry!" Hermione looked abashed. "Well...um...wow I don't really know where to start! It'a kind of intense."

"Just start somewhere!" Ron cried in exasperation. 

"Okayyy...well Kat hasn't been living at the orphanage like you thought Harry. She got kicked out her first day back and the Malfoy's took her in and let her stay with them!" 

"WHAT!" Ron and I said in surprise.

"Why was she kicked out?" I asked quietly as I felt an ominous sense of foreboding pass through me. 

"Um...well...see...I guess you could say there was an um...altercation...with her and five of the other girls there..." Hermione stammered out ever so slowly. It was killing me.

"Hermione! Just spit it out already! You're killing me here!" I wasn't sure how much longer I could stand not knowing.

"Okay, fine I'll tell you what she told me but you're not going to like it so please don't get mad at me! I'm just the messenger!" I nodded to show her I understood as I clenched my jaws in frustration.

"She said one of the girls had moved into her room while she was here at Hogwarts and hadn't taken it well when she had been forced to give it back for the summer. Apparently, she approached Kat and demanded Kat find a different room but Kat said no; which is totally awesome and I'm so proud of her since I know she's never been able to stand up to the girl before -" Hermione! I growled as she started to drift. 

"Sorry, but it really is great that she's becoming more confident! Anyways, the girl; along with four others, beat her up real bad - and I mean bad Harry! I saw the bruises on her arms and while they're almost done healing its clear they were painful and that's how they look AFTER magical healing to speed up the process. I'm horrified to think of how many other wounds she must have had that WERE able to be taken care of or are hidden elsewhere...Harry - she didn't say it, but I can tell...she almost died that night! She said they came at her for so long she almost blacked out from the pain! And she obviously has a fairly high pain tolerance since it's clear this wasn't the first time that twisted evil girl had targeted her in such a way. She told me all about her last year! It was horrible to listen to!" She paused for a moment as she thought back to some conversation she and Kat must have had at some point. 

"Thankfully, she managed to scare the girls off before she reached that point! It's amazing what she can do! - But I promised I wouldn't tell anyone; even you, so you have to ask her yourself if you wanna know how she did it...Anyways, apparently Malfoy's father showed up and stopped her from getting into trouble for using magic outside of school - and that's how she ended up staying with them. Look, I know its not your fault, but she thought you got her letter and knew what happened and were choosing not to respond - that you didn't care about her anymore -"

I opened my mouth to deny this but she shushed me. 

"I know, I know - I tried to tell her the idea was completely ridiculous but she'd been through a lot over the years; emotionally and physically, not to mention being thrown out of the only place she's ever lived...and she needed you...instead, the Malfoy's took her in...so it's easy to see how Draco and her might have became good friends if he was there to help her through it. I guess there must be more to him than we thought, though he's still a jerk that I don't think she should be hanging with. - But Harry, you and I both know how protective she can get when people hurt the ones she cares about; or even strangers! And you basically threatened the only person who acted like a friend to her this summer -" I opened my mouth again to protest but she ignored me as she continued. 

"Yes, I KNOW all of us would have been there in a heartbeat if we'd known earlier but we didn't! She only told me and Neville when we were on the train! Believe me! I wish she had wrote to me or Ron so at least one of us would have been aware of what happened and responding to her letters! She could have even stayed with you at Ron's place! She might not become such close friends with Malfoy as a result! Then again, I'm grateful at least someone was there for her even if it was him...Oh, Harry! After today, I can't help but think how mad she must be with all of us, you especially! Not only did you shout at Malfoy but it really did sound like you were giving her a command and I'm sorry but that was not what she needed to hear from you! I'm really worried about her! - What if you two never make up! It's all so complicated and stressful to think about and I can only imagine what she's going through right now! She needs us! We have to make it up to her! We just have to!" Hermione burst into tears.

Ron and I looked at her in amazement at what she had just told us. As the meaning behind her words registered, I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces as I thought about my best friend. 

My sweet, kind, courageous, sometimes violent and overprotective, but all-around amazing, best friend. Hermione was right, she had been all alone when she needed us - needed me; her best friend - most of all. I felt completely and utterly horrible. Especially now that I finally realized how she must have interpreted my fight with Malfoy and what I had said to her.

"Hermione...what...what am I supposed to do? I didn't mean what I said to her to sound the way it did! How can I possibly ever make this up to her!" I croaked out as a single tear rolled down my cheek.

"I - I don't know Harry, but you definitely need to talk to her as soon as you can and explain about Dobby and not getting her letters! And you NEED to make sure she knows you will always be there for her!" 

"Thanks for the advice, Hermione. And thanks for telling me..." I said as our watery eyes met. I glanced over at Ron and saw to my surprise that even his eyes were shining. 

We sat in silence as we all thought about how much we loved Kat and what we could do to make things up to her and brighten her days. Eventually we had to go to bed though and I crawled dejectedly under my covers and closed my eyes. 

I tossed and turned the entire night as images of Kat lying frozen in a dark chamber as a strange young man in Slytherin robes stood over her laughing maniacally filled my dreams until I finally passed out from exhaustion. 

Katrina's POV

I ran back to my room after dinner that night and sobbed my heart out as I told Tom about everything that had happened. He was really nice about it though and comforted me with soothing words and eventually convinced me to get some sleep. I crawled under my blankets smiling as I thought how lucky I was to have him as a friend.

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AN - I know this chapter was super long but I just got so caught up in it and really wanted to try and unpack all the emotions Kat is going through at the moment - hope you guys enjoyed! Comment your thoughts and don't forget to try and come up with a few names for me!

In-Line Comments

\- mini contest! whoever can come up with a good nickname for Katrina to call Draco will have my eternal gratitude! I was thinking Drake or Drakey but Drakey sounds more like something Pansy would say, so until inspiration strikes or someone suggests something, I'm gonna stick with Draco  
\- I also challenge anyone to come up with a good 'bad' nickname for Harry to refer to Malfoy as when it's his POV - don't wanna use "git" every time haha it'd be cool if he had his own nickname for Malfoy


	27. Mudbloods vs. Purebloods

Katrina's POV

I rubbed my eyes sleepily as I stumbled into the Great Hall the next morning. I was utterly exhausted and my brain felt like it had been torn open and examined by a neurosurgeon. It was strange since Tom had managed to convince me to sleep earlier than I normally did, but I was too tired to think much about it. 

My steps froze as my blue eyes met a startling pair of green ones. I willed my feet to move and raced over to where Draco sat at the Slytherin table. I heard a number of gasps from all the tables as they watched me sit down with the Slytherin's for the first time ever. I took no notice and began to fill my plate with food.

Out of the corner of my periphery, I saw Draco take in my puffy red eyes and sleepy demeanor. "You alright, Kat? You don't look very well!" He said worriedly as he paused with his fork in mid air.

"Yeah, nothing a good night's sleep can't cure!" I said as cheerfully as I could muster. We looked up as someone coughed loudly from behind us. I dropped my spoon in shock. Of all the people in the Great Hall, it HAD to be Harry that was standing right behind me. 

"Hey, Kat! Um...I was...I was wondering if I could talk to you for a second? I'm so sorry I haven't been there for you lately! Please...can you give me a chance to explain?" He looked at me and I struggled not to cave in as I stared at his worry-filled eyes. He looked like an adorable lost puppy dog and I couldn't help but feel a tug at my heartstrings. Before I could answer, Draco did it for me.

"You've got some nerve coming over here after what happened yesterday, Potter? You think I'm really going to stand by and watch you hurt her even more?" He said standing up quickly as he glared furiously at my former-best friend. 

"Malfoy, I...Merlin, I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I need to talk to you as well. Alone...I'd rather avoid being overheard." I glanced at Harry in confusion. What could he possibly have to say to Draco?

"What, scared of everyone watching me take the micky out of you?" My head whipped back in forth from Draco to Harry as I waited to see how he would respond.

"Please, Draco, its important." We both looked at him in shock; never dreaming we'd ever hear Harry say something like that to him.

"Um...okay...I guess?" Draco said glancing down at me to get my opinion. I shifted my head to the right a little to let him know that he had my permission. To be honest, I was curious to know what Harry could possibly want with Draco and I was counting on getting Draco to spill afterwards.

The two of them left the room and I went back to eating my bowl of cereal. I was halfway done when I watched Draco come back in and return to his seat next to me.

"I think you should go talk to Potter." He whispered in my ear as he picked up his fork and started eating again.

"Really? Why the sudden change of heart!"

"You guys clearly have unfinished business - and as much as I don't like the idea of you hanging around him again, I can tell you miss him like crazy - if it makes you happy, than I'll do my best to deal with it. Just don't expect me to be all chummy with him!" 

Wow. What in the world had the two of them talked about in order for Draco to say that? It sounded almost like they had come to some sort of truce! I never thought I'd see the day!

"He's waiting outside in the entrance hall for you, go! I'll bring your bag with me to class so you two can have a little extra time." He all but shoved me out of my seat and nudged me gently, but forcibly, towards to doorway. I grumbled out a 'thank you' as I slowly started walking towards where Harry waited.

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Harry's POV

"Thank...you," I forced myself to spit the words out.

"What did you just say, Potter!" Malfoy exclaimed in surprise as he looked at me.

"You heard what I said, I am NOT repeating it!"

"What are you going on about?" 

"I...I had no idea what happened to her over the summer. Not that it's any of your business, but some house elf named Dobby was stealing my mail. I never got any of Kat's letters. I only found out about what happened last night. It's...I mean to say...I...she...those girls..." I couldn't figure out what to say as I struggled to verbalize what I was feeling. 

I noticed, however, that Draco's eyes had widened in surprise as I mentioned Dobby. I made a mental note to ask him at some point if he knew the elf in question.

"Okayyy...what is it exactly that you want me to say, Potter? You're supposed to be her best friend and she felt like you had abandoned her! It may not have been on purpose, but I can't exactly change her mind. You know how stubborn she can get!" We both smiled at that. Then realized who we were standing next to and our smiles vanished as we stared at each other.

"Look, I'm going to make it up to her no matter what I have to do, but I...also wanted to say that; while I may not like you, you and your family took her in and helped her, for which I'm grateful. I just wish I could have been there to comfort her myself or been there to stop it from happening! No one as sweet and kind as her should ever be...I mean, how could they...I just want to...arghhh..." I yelled in frustration as my brain failed to find the right words yet again. 

I bounced up and down as energy laced through my body and needed to be released. Before I knew it, I had punched the wall in anger and then immediately regretted it as I felt and heard the crack of finger bones. I swore loudly as I wrapped the ends of my robes around my hand to wipe away the blood that was escaping where my skin had been scraped off.

"I felt the same way when I saw her walk into our parlor room covered from head to toe in bruises and soaked in her own blood." Malfoy exclaimed as he looked sympathetically at my injured hand. I gazed at him in shock. Was he actually being nice to me? I shivered as his words sent an icy chill down my spine.

"Look, I know we don't always get along very well and I doubt we ever will...but it's clear we both care about her and I know if either of us force her to choose between us it will break her heart...and I can't let that happen."

"Me neither, " I mumbled in agreement as I stared at him shocked that he was acting like a normal person for once. Maybe there was a little truth to what Hermione said about there being more to him...

"Okay...so how about we either let her decide on her own and then respect her choice, or if she can't choose, at least keep our 'disagreements' to ourselves so she isn't affected by them. What she doesn't know can't hurt her." He stretched his hand out and I shook it with my uninjured one. 

"Just so you know, Potter, this does NOT mean we are friends now nor that I won't treat you and the other two with any less contempt if the situation calls for it."

"Believe me, the feeling is mutual all around," I said coldly. "When you go back in, can you tell her I'm waiting outside here if she's willing to let me explain?"

He gave a short nod and walked back into the Great Hall. I felt my heart thunder as I waited tensely to see if she would come out or not.

Each second seemed like a million years as I stood there silently. My heart leaped as I saw a figure step into the entrance hall.

"Kat! I'm so happy you came!...um...do you think we could go for a walk outside or something? It's a little hot in here." She nodded her head and we walked down the steps.

"So...ah...what exactly did you and Draco talk about? He was acting all weird when he got back!" She said nervously as she glanced in my direction. 

"Uhhh, it's not really that important...I just thanked him..."

"Oh...okay...what for?"

"For...uhh...ya know, being there for you when I - I couldn't be..." I hung my head in shame.

She stopped walking and studied me closely. I shifted uncomfortably as I struggled to find the right place to start. I couldn't.

"Well one of us needs to start talking so I guess I will go first. I won't lie Harry, I'm not your biggest fan right now, especially after yesterday. I kept telling myself there must be something I was missing and that there had to be a good reason for your behavior, but I honestly just don't know anymore!"

I took a deep breath trying to plan something out but the words came spilling out of me uncontrollably. "I'm so sorry! I had no idea what happened! Hermione just told Ron and I everything last night! I swear! I spent my summer locked up in my room after a house elf named Dobby popped into my room and got me into trouble! He was dead set against me returning to Hogwarts and had been stealing my mail to make me think you guys were ignoring me like you thought I was doing. I swear, I didn't receive a single letter from anyone the entire summer! I thought you guys had forgotten all about me until Ron and his brothers broke me out! If I had known...I would have...would have...well I don't know what I would have done but I'd have done anything in my power to help! You're my best friend, it breaks my heart that I wasn't able to be there for you! Please, if there's anything I can do to make it up to you just say the word!"

She stared at me for so long that I began to panic. We reached the lake before she finally turned to me with a sigh. "It seems we have both been acting foolishly...no thanks to Dobby! Can you forgive me for thinking so horribly of you before I heard your side of the story?" I felt my jaw drop.

"It's I who should be asking YOU for forgiveness! Not the other way around!"

"Not really," she said slowly as we started walking around the lake. You weren't ignoring me or being a bad friend at all. It's not like I blamed Ron or Hermione since I knew they didn't know, so why would I turn around and get upset with you for not knowing? That would make me a hypocrite! - Look, we've both made some mistakes it seems, but I just want to forget the summer and have a good school year...I just want...my best friend back." She finished with a whisper. 

"Consider it done!" I said as I gave her a gentle hug. Then I grinned as a flashback from last year forced its' way into my mind. "Best friends for life?" I smiled as I lifted my pinky up - then realized my mistake and winced.

"Merlin's beard, Harry! What happened to your hand!" She gasped as her eyes fixed on my bloody knuckles. 

"Uhhhhh..." I said sounding like Crabbe and Goyle when they were asked a question in class. My face flushed red as I shuffled my feet. I couldn't tell her the real truth but I also didn't want to lie to her...

"I uh...punched the wall...Don't ask..." I said lamely.

"Okayyy...I won't ask, but we're going to see Madam Pomfrey right now!" She said as she started heading back to the castle.

"Oh come on! We'll be late to class! And it's Potions! Snape will be furious! You know how he feels about me!" I complained.

"Yes, I do, and you know how he feels about me! I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will write us a note and if not, I'll convince him not to be mad - or just forge a note!

"You are getting to be quite the little schemer!" I said chuckling. 

"Was there really any hope for me? With role models like Fred and George, I never had a shot of being anything less!"

We both laughed and headed to the hospital wing.

********************************************

Kat had been right. After cleaning and bandaging my hand, Madam Pomfrey had written the two of us a note to give Professor Snape to explain our late arrival. She wouldn't let us leave without giving Kat a very thorough examination as well, however. Kat squirmed uncomfortably but there was no refusing Madam Pomfrey's orders when she had her mind set. 

I bit my lip hard as I forced myself to stay quiet as I finally saw what Hermione had been talking about. While they were barely visible now, the number of bruises that still marked her body left it quite clear that she had been well and thoroughly roughed up. I felt a white hot anger rise within me again but with a tremendous effort, I managed to stamp it out. It wouldn't do any good for me to lose control again!

Katrina's POV

We opened the door to the Potions classroom and slowly sidled in - hoping to escape unnoticed. We had arrived only 20 minutes late, but the class was already working on the potion for the day and luck was not on our side. Snape swooped down on us before the door had closed shut behind us.

"Potter, where have you been! I will not stand tardiness in my class, you know this!" He lowered his voice, "and I would appreciate it if you could leave my goddaughter out of whatever foolish schemes and rule breaking you have planned for this year. I will not have her dragged down by the likes of you!" He hissed menacingly. 

"Overkill, much?" I retorted with a roll of my eyes. "We have a note, Professor. Harry needed to be taken to the hospital wing, see?" I finished sweetly,  as I handed the note to Snape. He scanned it quickly then looked at me with a frown.

"It says here that you also required Madam Pomfrey's attention...what ever for?" His eyes narrowed to slits as he glared at Harry before returning his eyes to me. They scanned me over intently as concern flickered across his face.

"Oh, no reason, no reason at all. You know how she gets...can't help fussing over ever little thing..." as convincing as I sounded, Harry and I could both tell he wasn't buying it. "She just noticed that I looked slightly pale is all. I didn't sleep very well last night, so she gave me a sleeping draft to take later. Like I said, nothing to worry about!" 

I marched off to our normal spot and started getting out the necessary ingredients. I could feel Snape's eyes on my back; watching my every move and was careful to make sure my movements didn't falter. I had Harry do the chopping since I didn't want to give it away with my shoddy cutting skills. The wrist injury made it difficult to accomplish those sorts of tasks. Instead, I focused on measuring out ingredients and stirring the potion when necessary. 

"Does Snape not know what happened either?" Harry leaned over and whispered to me.

"I have no idea. I assume so, since he's good friends with Lucius. Plus, Dumbledore must have been told about it when the ministry found out that I had used underage magic. But like I said, I want to just move on and focus on other things. I can't really do that if everyone's hovering over me expecting me to break apart or something!" 

"I guess that makes sense...what's the next ingredient we need?" 

"It says we need to add 3 drops of toad saliva. I'll go get it while you finish up chopping those lizard tails." I got up and was pleased to see that Snape had been distracted by another one of Neville's mistakes.

I walked over to the wall that held a variety of different liquid potion ingredients and scanned the labels. After 5 minutes of searching, I finally found the bottle I was looking for. It was higher than I expected and I had to reach up on my tippy toes in order to get close to it. I didn't want to risk knocking it over so I was forced to steady it with both hands. As I did so, my sleeves fell down; fully exposing my arms. I quickly shook them back out as I glanced around the room in fear. 

From what I could tell, no one had noticed and I breathed in a sigh of relief. I didn't want awkward questions, or pity. I hurried back to Harry and used a pipette to add the 3 drops of saliva to the concoction. 

As we made to leave for lunch, Snape called out for Harry to stay behind. I looked at my godfather in confusion but he motioned for me to leave and I had no choice but to follow Ron and Hermione out into the hall. 

I had just started on my second sandwich when Harry finally joined us. "So what did Snape want?" I asked in between bites. 

"Oh just the usual nonsense," he said vaguely. I looked at him with raised brows but he pretended not to notice. I shrugged it off and continued to eat, just happy that things were finally going back to normal. We all looked up as Snape stormed into the Great Hall and strode up to Dumbledore. I watched in fascination as he whispered angrily into grandfather's ear. 

"I wonder what's wrong," I said to Harry as I finished the last of my lunch. I flinched as both Snape and Dumbledore turned their gaze to me briefly before quickly leaving the hall. Maybe I was crazy but it felt like they had been talking about me...

********************************************

Severus' POV

Just like his bloody father! I thought to myself as I strode up and down the rows of students; making sure their potions were under control. Always thinking rules don't apply to him, the pompous son of a bi- I frowned as I realized there was another student missing. 

I growled softly. If that puffed-up lame excuse for a wizard had gotten my goddaughter caught up in yet another scheme or bout of rule-breaking...

I spun around as the door swung open. I was on the pair of them before the door even closed. My brows furrowed as I read over the note Kat handed me. It was clear something had happened to Potter's hand, but as I scanned Kat over, I couldn't see anything wrong with her. 

She waved it off, but I could sense that something was off. Not only was it clear she was lying about why Madam Pomfrey had checked her over, but my skill in legilimancy was telling me that something or someone had been messing around inside her head; looking through her memories. 

Thankfully, the intrusion didn't seem to have impacted the Potions effect on her memory just yet, but I could feel the hint of something beginning to stir in the back of her mind. Something dark...this was worrying.

As I watched her help Harry with their potion, I couldn't help but notice how closely she resembled her mother. The eyes were the most obvious, as they were perfect replicas of Elliana's and Albus', but there was also something about the way she tilted her head and the way she tugged at her robes when she was nervous, that was endearingly familiar. But the thing that stood out most, was her smile and the way she laughed. 

I had loved Elliana's smile as much as I had loved Lilly. My best friend had held  the ability to brighten any room with a dazzling grin and a laugh that hit the ears like the ringing of bells. When Lilly and Elliana had died, I had lost all hope of ever getting to see those stunning green eyes or brilliant smile that had lit a warmth in my cold heart, ever again.

Yet here they were, the children of my best friend and lost love, working together on a potion. It was physically painful to look at Potter, though. I longed to see those beautiful emerald eyes again...but to have them reflecting at me from the face of the man who had stolen her from me was torture! It was pure agony! I clenched my hands into fists as I remember the torment that the boy's father and friends had put me through.

Then my eyes landed on Kat again and I felt my heart lighten as she flashed that smile I had missed for so long. I couldn't help reminiscing over our time spent together before her memory had been wiped by my hands.

It had been one of the hardest things I had ever had to do, but Albus had demanded that I make the forgetfulness draft for him when she was five. He never told me why, but I knew there must have been a good reason. Nevertheless, it still pained me to know that she would never remember our times together.

How I missed the days when Kat would jump into my arms and let me spin her around till she sat on my lap as we played board games with her other guardians and teachers here at Hogwarts. 

She had won over the heart of every staff member here from the moment she was born. And as she had grown up, our feelings had only grown stronger. Who wouldn't have fallen in love with the adorable little 4 year old who would pelt down the halls giggling as she chased Mrs. Norris, or find every way possible to sneak into our classes while we were lecturing so she could learn the magic she wasn't allowed to do yet.

She really was the smartest witch I'd ever met and that was at the age of 4! She'd ignore our orders to stay away and always managed to sneak into the classrooms no matter how hard we all tried to stop her. She was a natural and it hadn't been long before we realized she was casting spells better than most of the seventh years, without even needing a wand...But of course, she no longer remembered those days...

Though as I discovered on her very first day, the information was still there, just buried deep within the recesses of her mind. I could tell there were times where she surprised even herself as she'd stumble upon some random useful spell she'd previously mastered.

I was brought abruptly out of my flashbacks as I sucked in a deep breath as her arms were exposed when she attempted to reach for one of the bottles on the shelves. My eyes narrowed in fury as I spotted the faint outlines of multiple bruises. What in Merlin's name had happened to my goddaughter?

I held Harry back after class hoping he could explain. I hated having to rely on Potter's son for information, but I knew Kat wouldn't tell me herself.

Potter had looked surprised at first when I asked him to tell me, but he quickly summarized what had transpired over the summer. I ordered him out and strode down the halls with my cloak billowing behind me; determined to have a word with Dumbledore. How could he have kept this from me!

I stormed into the Great Hall and whispered frantically into his ear as I relayed the information I had just received. To my surprise, he seemed just as shocked as I was! Had he really not known? We looked over to where Kat sat munching on a sandwich before we headed out of the hall. We needed answers!

(Okay...there's my first attempt at doing Snape's POV🙈please let me know what you guys think! Not sure how it turned out! 😅don't worry, things will start to pick up soon now that everything from the summer is finally being worked out, didn't mean to make it take this long - it just happened. If you liked it great! If not, it's over now for the most part and I'll be getting back to the main plot now!)

********************************************

Katrina's POV

I was woken up early on Saturday morning by a loud banging on my door. I groaned in frustration and rolled out of bed.

"What!" I practically screamed as I yanked the door open hard only to find myself staring at Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain. His hair was ruffled and he looked half asleep but he grinned nonetheless and gestured to his broom.

"Quidditch practice in half an hour. Hurry up and get ready and meet us down at the changing room." Without another word he turned around and left.

I got changed into my Quidditch robes cursing his name the whole time. The sun was just barely creeping over the tree tops by the time I joined my bleary-eyed teammates. As Oliver rambled on about new strategies, I leaned my head on Harry's shoulder and it wasn't long before I'd dozed off. I woke with a start as Oliver yelled at us to pick up our brooms and follow him onto the field. 

"Enjoy your nap?" Harry said grinning at me. 

"You betcha, I had the most marvelous pillow," I answered, sticking my tongue out at him. 

"I don't believe it!" I heard Oliver cry out from the front of the group. 

"What's wrong, Oliver?" I asked. But he didn't need to respond for me to see what had got him so riled up. Striding towards us from the opposite side of the field was the Slytherin team. 

Oliver hissed in outrage. "I booked the field for today! We'll see about this!" He lead us forward as he strode over to the group. "Flint! This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

"Plenty of room for all of us, Wood." I heard Marcus Flint, the Slytherin team captain, respond. 

"But I booked the field!" Oliver was positively spitting with rage.

"Ah, but I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. 'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new seeker.'" 

"You've got a new seeker?" Oliver said, distracted. The team stepped aside to reveal Draco standing there with a smug grin on his face. My jaw dropped. Draco had never said anything to me about making the team!  Then again, we were on opposing sides.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" I heard Fred say as he glanced at my friend with dislike.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father," said Flint as the whole team smiled at us. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team." It was then that we noticed that all seven of them were carrying highly polished, brand-new broomsticks with golden lettering along the handles that spelled the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One. 

"Very latest model. Only came out last month," continued Flint, grinning at us. No one could think of anything to say. We just stood there staring at their new brooms. "Oh, look, a field invasion." I glanced over to see Ron and Hermione crossing the grass to see what was going on.

"What's happening?" Ron asked, looking at Harry and I. "Why aren't you playing? And what's he doing here?" He was looking at Draco and I frowned at the venomous tone in his voice. I really wished they could all get along...

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley," Draco said, smugly. "Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team." Ron's jaw dropped as he noticed the new brooms they were all holding. "Good aren't they? Perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold to buy new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them." The Slytherin team howled as I glared at Draco. His expression flickered briefly as he noticed my steely glare but got distracted when Hermione spoke up.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," she said sharply. "They got in on pure talent." I sucked in my breath as I realized she had said the wrong words. I had seen Draco fly over the summer enough to know that he was good, but he was also too proud about it and wouldn't hear anyone say otherwise.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," he spat. The word was unfamiliar to me and Hermione but the two of us could tell it must have been really bad because there was an instant uproar.

"You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" Ron yelled as he pulled his wand out and made to curse him. But the wand that he had broken on his arrival at Hogwarts had been very unreliable lately and the curse backfired. Harry, Hermione, and I ran over to him as he groaned and puked up a slug. I covered my mouth in disgust. 

Draco and the rest of the Slytherin's burst out laughing as Harry and I helped him up. 

"Where should we take him?" I asked Harry as I struggled to lift Ron's weight.

"Let's take him to Hagrid's. It's closer." We heard a frantic clicking sound and looked over to see Colin Creevy; one of the new first years who was obsessed with taking pictures and everything concerning Harry Potter. "Get out of the way, Colin!" Harry muttered.

The four of us headed off to Hagrid's hut, stopping every so often as Ron puked up slug after slug.

We were about twenty feet away when the door opened and Hagrid emerged. He looked at us in surprise then his eyes widened as he glanced at Ron. He motioned us inside and we all sat down as he handed Ron a giant bucket.

"Better out than in," he said cheerfully. "Nothin ter do but wait till it stops I'm afraid. Who were yeh tryin' ter curse?"

"Malfoy," Harry explained from beside me. "He called Hermione a...a...well I don't exactly know what he called her but it must have been bad!" 

"It was bad," said Ron hoarsely as he peered over the top of the bucket. "He called her a mudblood..." he dove back out of sight as a fresh wave of slugs made their way out. 

Hagrid looked outraged. "He didn'!" He growled at Hermione. 

"He did," she said. "But I don't know what it means. It was obviously rude, of course -"

"It's about the most insulting thing he could think of," gasped Ron, coming back up for air.

"Mudblood's a really foul name for someone with non-magic parents. There are some wizards; like Malfoy's family, who think they're better than everyone else because they're what people call pure-blood." Ron explained as he gave a small burp, and a single slug fell into his outstretched hand. 

He threw it into the basin and continued, "I mean, the rest of us know it doesn't make any difference at all. Look at Neville - he's pure-blood and he can hardly stand a cauldron the right way up."

"Hey, Neville's got plenty of things going for him!" I defended. 

"An' they haven't invented a spell our Hermione can' do," said Hagrid proudly, making Hermione go a brilliant shade of magenta.

"It's a disgusting thing to call someone," said Ron, wiping his sweaty brow with a shaking hand. "Dirty blood...It's ridiculous. Most wizards these days are half-blood anyway. If we hadn't married Muggles we'd've died out."

He retched and ducked out of sight again.

"Well, I don' blame yeh fer tryin' ter curse him, Ron," said Hagrid loudly over the thuds of more slugs hitting the basin. "Bu'maybe it was a good thing yer wand back fired. 'Spect Lucius Malfoy would've come marchin' up ter school if yeh'd cursed his son. Least yer not in trouble." I nodded in agreement, knowing Lucius well enough by now to know he would have done exactly that.

It was nearly lunchtime before we said good-bye to Hagrid and walked back up to the castle, Ron hiccuping occasionally, but only bringing up two very small slugs. We had barely set foot in the cool entrance hall when a voice rang out, "There you are, Potter - Weasley." Professor McGonagall was walking toward us, looking stern. "You will both do your detentions this evening."

"What're we doing, Professor?" said Ron, nervously suppressing a burp.

"You will be polishing the silver in the trophy room with Mr.Filch," said Professor McGonagall. "And no magic, Weasley - elbow grease." Ron gulped. Argus Filch, the caretaker, was loathed by every student in the school.

"And you, Potter, will be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail," said Professor McGonagall. I giggled at the expression on Harry's face. I didn't envy him one bit. Lockhart was a complete sham of a Professor. It surprised me that grandfather had chosen him in the first place. Though I suppose not many people were clambering for the job after what happened to the last one...I also hated how much he kept winking at me!

"Professor, can't I go and do the trophy room, too?"

"Certainly not," said Professor McGonagall, raising her eyebrows. "Professor Lockhart requested you particularly. Eight o'clock sharp, both of you."

Harry and Ron slouched into the Great Hall in states of deepest gloom, Hermione and I behind them, both wearing well-you-did-break-school-rules expressions. 

I could tell both had felt they'd got the worse deal.

"Filch'll have me there all night," said Ron heavily. "No magic! There must be about a hundred cups in that room. I'm no good at Muggle cleaning."

"I'd swap anytime," said Harry hollowly. "I've had loads of practice with the Dursleys. Answering Lockhart's fan mail...he'll be a nightmare..."

Saturday afternoon seemed to melt away, and in what seemed like no time, it was five minutes to eight, and I was forcing a hesitant Harry out of the portrait hole as I broke off to head back to my room.


	28. Writing on the Wall

The Heir of Slytherin's POV   
(Yes I'm going there! 😳 but not sure how it'll go so, comment how you think it went!)

I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride wash over me as I watched my handiwork unfold before my eyes. The little one had so much potential that it would have touched my heart; if I had one. I had been shocked when I finally discovered the real truth about who she was, but I've always been able to turn an unpleasant situation to my advantage. 

I laughed as I thought about the foolish old man. Did he really think he could stop ME? Did he honestly think that by keeping her hidden - that erasing her memory, would actually stop me from taking control of her? That I wouldn't be able to reawaken the beautifully dark power I'd seen within? 

Hah! She may not be aware of her true nature, but my little trip into her mind had shown me many, many things: the past, the present, the future; all suddenly revealed to me. I had seen the power...the fear...the strength...that waited for me - just out of my reach. But not for much longer...

I now held the knowledge and wisdom my future-self spent years collecting; I'd clarified the unknown while finding the perfect way to seek revenge on the old fool who thought he could stand in my way.

I rubbed my hands together in glee as I planned out the first step of my new scheme. It was full proof. I intended to act on what I'd learned and nothing would be able to stop me this time!

Katrina's POV

"How'd your detention with Lockhart go?" I asked Harry as the four of us ate breakfast the next morning.

"It was absolutely dreadful! Though...something weird happened towards the end." 

"What happened?" Ron said as we all leaned in closer.

"Well...I could have sworn I heard a voice saying something odd, but Lockhart didn't seem to hear it. I'm not crazy though! I definitely heard it!"

"What was the voice saying?" Hermione asked in a soothing voice; the kind you use when talking to the sick or elderly.

"It said something about ripping and tearing...then, then it started talking about wanting to kill..." he whispered, giving Hermione a frown at the tone in her voice. We sat in silence for a long time.

"Well, maybe you just imagined it, spending that much time with Lockhart would be enough to drive anyone insane!" I said, sticking my tongue out at him in an attempt to lighten the mood. It worked. We all laughed and headed off to class not giving it another thought.

********************************************

The weeks flew by and I was happier than I had been in a long time. I finally had my best friend back and classes were going great. Other than Lockhart...who just as Quirrell had done the previous year, kept following me around everywhere. What was wrong with him? He kept winking and wiggling his brows suggestively at me, it was gross!

It was a while before I remembered that I hadn't talked to Tom in a while. I felt bad. I ran to my room at lunch and grabbed the black diary. There wasn't enough time before my next class so I stuffed it in my bag for later.

Once dinner was over, I told my friends I needed to stop in the bathroom before joining them in the common room. I locked myself in one of the stalls of Moaning Murtle's bathroom and opened the book to scrawl out a quick apology.

Hey, Tom. I'm sorry it's been so long, I've just been busy with school. Harry and I made up! I'm so happy!

There was a brief pause while I waited for Tom to write back.

...you mean to tell me, you actually forgave that fool?

He's not a fool, Tom! He's my best friend! It turns out it was all just a big misunderstanding.

From what you told me, that sorry excuse for a boy doesn't care about you! He's just using you, can't you see that! I'm disappointed in you, child. Why waste your time and energy with that idiot. You are so much better than him - or anyone else for that matter! You have the potential for greatness! Seize it!

Tom! What's gotten into you? 

Nothing, I just don't like to see power being wasted. You have so much power Kat, use it!

But I don't want power!

Yes you do! Everybody does. If you seized the power you hold within, you could do amazing things! Think about it! You could have burned those filthy muggles to a crisp for ever daring to touch you!

That's a horrible thing to say, Tom!

It's what they deserved...

Why are you saying these things, Tom! You're scaring me!

I stopped writing as I felt a wave of dark energy surge through my body. I suddenly found myself thinking back to all the times I'd felt powerless and weak and the dark voices whispered devilishly in my ear of all the possible ways that I could get revenge.

I dropped the book in horror and ran out of the stall. As I yanked the door open I collided with something hard and fell to the floor.

"Oh, hey Ginny! I'm sorry, I didn't see you there! Gotta go, bye!" I mumbled as Ron's little sister pulled her self up slowly. Without looking back, I ran up to the Gryffindor common room as fast as I could. But I still couldn't escape the darkness that was creeping slowly through my mind and I was breathing heavily by the time I got to the portrait of the fat lady; and not because of the run.

I gasped out the password and toppled into the room. Thankfully only three people were there to see my 'graceful' entrance. 

"You okay?" Harry laughed as he helped me to my feet.

"Yeah, I'm alright!" I said blushing. The instant his hand grasped mine, I felt the darkness fly away and sighed in relief. I didn't know why it had fled, I was just happy that it had gone.

********************************************

My mind felt freer than ever as we entered the month of October. With Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville to hang out with, I began to forget all about Tom and the diary. I did, however, notice that Ginny had started to act strange whenever she saw me. 

Her eyes would glaze over and she'd just stand there watching me. It was creepy, but when I asked Ron about it he just said that she was probably as obsessed with me as she was with Harry and not to worry about it. With Quidditch practice and the amount of homework we were receiving, I didn't have time to freak out anyways, so I just ignored her stares and went about my business.

"So what's this I hear about a party?" I asked Harry, joining them in the Great Hall for dinner one night. 

"Oh yeah! Nearly Headless Nick invited us to his Death Day Party. It's during the Halloween feast so if you don't wanna come that's totally fine. I already said I'd go though," Harry explained.

"Of course I'll come! Sounds fun!" 

********************************************

On Halloween night, I met up with Harry, Ron, and Hermione and we set off for the dungeons; where the party was apparently located. We entered the room cautiously, not sure what we'd find. About a hundred ghosts were floating around the room which lowered the temperature even more than it normally was in this part of the castle. 

I scrunched up my nose as we passed by a long table laden with rotten food. A ghost swooped down with its' mouth open as he passed through it.

"Does it taste better that way?" I asked as I tried not to let my disgust show.

"It helps a little..." the ghost replied, his shoulders sagging sadly. "But not much..."

We went over to congratulate Nick. Though this confused me a little. Was one really supposed to congratulate someone on dying? 

We were talking to Nick when 'the head' of the Headless Hunt came over and joined us (see what I did there? Hehe). I saw Nick give Harry a pointed look and Harry immediately began to talk about how awesome Nick was in an attempt to help Nick with his goal of getting into the Headless Hunt. I shook my 'head' (:p hehe). As much as I liked Nearly Headless Nick, he was fighting a losing battle. It was clear that they weren't going to let him join. 

We finally managed to leave the two ghosts as they continued to argue, only to run straight through Moaning Murtle; quite literally. I shivered as my already low body temperature dropped even lower. 

"Hey Murtle," I greeted her. She looked at me and moaned sadly and floated off without saying anything.

"What's up with her?" Ron asked in amusement.

"She's always like that. It's why she's know as 'Moaning' Murtle. She spends all her time crying in one of the girls bathrooms." Hermione explained. 

It was only after speeches were give; which took about another hour or so, that the four of us were able to excuse ourselves and leave the party. My stomach grumbled in annoyance. There hadn't been any edible food for us to eat and we were all extremely hungry. We were making our way to the Great Hall to see if we could catch the last of the feast, when a chilling voice made Harry and I stop in our tracks.

"Let me riiiippp...let me tearrrr...I sssssmell blood...sssooo hungry for ssssooo long...kill...time to kill!"

"It's that voice again!" Harry cried aloud.

"Voice, what voice?" Hermione said, looking at us in confusion. 

Just then the voice spoke again. "That voice!" Harry and I cried out at the same time. Ron and Hermione looked at us like we were insane. 

"Can't...can't you guys hear it?" I asked nervously. Was I going insane? 

Harry and I ran off after the hissing noises while the other two followed closely behind rather reluctantly. We ran and ran until we found ourselves stumbling through a flooded hallway. 

"Looks like Moaning Murtle's flooded the bathroom," I said lifting up my robes to avoid getting them wet.

I looked up to see them all staring wide-eyed at something behind me. I slowly turned around and felt my body tense up. Written on the wall in what looked like blood, were the words: 

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE. 

There was something tacked to the wall underneath it. Harry and I stepped forward for a closer look.

I gasped and covered my mouth in shock as I realized that it was Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris. 

"We should get out of here before anyone else sees this!" I muttered to Harry. But before we could do so, the footsteps of those returning from the feast echoed loudly from the direction of the stairs and soon the hallway was packed with students; all whispering and pointed at the words on the wall.

"What's going on here, what's going on?" My face went pale as we heard Filch's grumbling voice shout over the crowd as he pushed through the crowd. When he saw Mrs. Norris, he clutched his chest in horror.

"My cat, my cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris!" His gaze landed on Harry and I. 

"You!" He screeched. "You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll -"

"Argus!" My grandfather's voice; while relatively quiet, drew everyone's attention. Behind him were a number of the other professors. 

Dumbledore walked silently past Harry and I as he detached the cat. 

"Come with me Argus," he said, motioning towards the caretaker. "The four of you as well," he added, glancing at us.

Lockhart stepped up immediately. "My office is nearest, headmaster! Just up stairs, please feel free."

"Thank you, Gilderoy," grandfather said. I could see the other professors glaring at Lockhart and chuckled. Apparently they were as unimpressed with him as I was. 

I could see him trying to get closer to me and sped up to walk alongside my grandfather. U didn't want that blonde bimbo anywhere near me!

The silent crowd parted to let us past as we followed Dumbledore and Lockhart. Once we got to his office, we all watched as grandfather lay Mrs. Norris on one of the polished desks and began to examine her. Lockhart flitted around the room listing possible explanations. I rolled my eyes at the idiocy of his comments. 

I did my best to ignore the way his eyes raked over me every couple of minutes.

"It was definitely a curse that killed her - probably the Transmogrifian Torture - I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very countercurse that would have saved her..." If you had been there, she probably would have ended up worse than dead, I thought to myself as he paced back and forth excitedly.

Lockhart's comments were punctuated by Filch's dry, racking sobs. He was slumped in a chair by the desk, unable to look at Mrs. Norris, his face in his hands. Much as I detested Filch, I couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for him, though not nearly as sorry as I felt for the poor cat or my friends and I. 

If grandfather believed Filch, we would be expelled for sure! He was now muttering strange words under his breath and tapping Mrs. Norris with his wand but nothing happened: She continued to look as though she had been recently stuffed.

"I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadogou," said Lockhart, "a series of attacks, the full story's in my autobiography, I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets, which cleared the matter up at once..." 

The photographs of Lockhart on the walls were all nodding in agreement as he talked. 

I snorted as I heard this. I sincerely doubted any of his adventures had actually involved him actually saving the day; chances were, he'd just stollen the credit. At last Dumbledore straightened up.

"She's not dead, Argus," he said softly. As serious as the situation was, I couldn't help but giggle. Harry looked at me and I pointed to Lockhart's facial expression as he discovered he'd been wrong. He'd stopped abruptly in the middle of counting the number of murders he had prevented. 

"Not dead?" choked Filch, looking through his fingers at Mrs. Norris. "But why's she all - all stiff and frozen?"

"She has been Petrified," said Dumbledore ("Ah! I thought so!" said Lockhart). Dragondung! I thought as I marveled at the way he tried to twist everything to his favor no matter how wrong he was.

"But how, I cannot say..."

"Ask those two!" shrieked Filch, turning his blotched and tear-stained face to Harry and I.

"No second year could have done this," said Dumbledore firmly. "It would take Dark Magic of the most advanced -"

"He did it, they did it!" Filch spat, his pouchy face purpling. "You saw what they wrote on the wall! The boy found -in my office - he knows I'm a - I'm a -" Filch's face worked horribly. "He knows I'm a Squib!" he finished.  

"We never touched Mrs. Norris!" We burst out loudly at the same time; as much as I yearned to say jinx, it was clearly not the right moment so I bit my lip. I was uncomfortably aware of everyone looking at us, including all the Lockharts on the walls. 

"I don't even know what a Squib is." Harry continued as I nodded in agreement.

"Rubbish!" snarled Filch. "You saw my Kwikspell letter!" What? I looked at Harry for an explanation but he shook his head and mouthed, "later."

If I might speak, Headmaster," said Snape from the shadows. I saw Harry's face drop; he was sure nothing Snape had to say was going to do him any good.

"Katrina wouldn't hurt a fly, that much is clear. Furthermore, Potter and his friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said, a slight sneer curling his mouth as though he doubted it. "But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why was he in the upstairs corridor at all? Why wasn't he at the Halloween feast?"

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I all launched into an explanation about the death day party. "...there were hundreds of ghosts, they'll tell you we were there -" Harry exclaimed.

"But why not join the feast afterward?" said Snape, his black eyes glittering in the candlelight. "Why go up to that corridor at all?" Ron and Hermione looked at the two of us.

"Because - because -" Harry stammered as he looked at me; neither of us thought it would be a good idea to tell them we were hearing voices. It would sound too far-fetched.

"because we were tired and wanted to go to bed," he said hesitantly.

"Without any supper?" said Snape, a triumphant smile flickering across his gaunt face. "I didn't think ghosts provided food fit for living people at their parties."

"We weren't hungry," said Ron loudly as his stomach gave a huge rumble. Snape's smile widened.  "I suggest, Headmaster, that Potter is not being entirely truthful," he said. "It might be a good idea if he were deprived of certain privileges until he is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel he should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready to be honest." I looked at my godfather in shock. I also noticed how he'd conveniently left my name out of the mix and was only accusing Harry even though I'd been with them the entire time.

"Really, Severus," said Professor McGonagall sharply, "I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quidditch. This cat wasn't hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that either Potter or Katrina have done anything wrong."

Grandfather was staring at Harry and I with a searching look. His twinkling light-blue gaze so similar to mine, made me feel as though I were being X-rayed."

"Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," he said firmly. Snape looked furious. So did Filch.

"My cat has been Petrified!" he shrieked, his eyes popping. "I want to see some punishment!"

"We will be able to cure her, Argus," said Dumbledore patiently. "Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris."

"I'll make it," Lockhart butted in. "I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep -" I stared disbelievingly at him. Then turned to see Snape's reaction. It was priceless.

"Excuse me," said Snape icily. "But I believe I am the Potions master at this school." There was a very awkward pause as they glared at each other.

"You may go," Dumbledore said to the four of us. We went, as quickly as we could without actually running. When we were a floor up from Lockhart's office, we turned into an empty classroom and closed the door quietly behind us.

Harry turned to us, "D'you think we should have told them about that voice we heard?"

No," said Ron, without hesitation. "Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world." Something in Ron's voice made me ask, "You do believe us, don't you?"

"'Course I do," said Ron quickly. "But - you must admit it's weird..."

"I know it's weird," said Harry. "The whole thing's weird. 

"What was that writing on the wall about? 'The Chamber Has Been Opened'....What's that supposed to mean?" I chimed in.

"You know, it rings a sort of bell," said Ron slowly. "I think someone told me a story about a secret chamber at Hogwarts once...might've been Bill..."

"And what on earth's a Squib?" Harry and I said together. I made up for the missed opportunity earlier and elbowed his arm as I shouted "Jinx!" My friends all rolled their eyes at me.

To my surprise, Ron burst out laughing at our question. "Well - it's not funny really - but as it's Filch," he said. "A squib is someone who was born into a wizarding family but hasn't got any magic powers. Kind of the opposite of Muggle-born wizards, but Squibs are quite unusual. If Filch's trying to learn magic from a Kwikspell course, I reckon he must be a Squib. It would explain a lot. Like why he hates students so much." Ron gave a satisfied smile. "He's bitter."

A clock chimed somewhere. "Midnight," said Harry. "We'd better get to bed before Snape comes along and tries to frame us for something else." We agreed and headed off to bed.

When I entered my bedroom I saw a note taped to a tray that had been left on my bed.

Dear Kat,

Since you missed the feast, I'm having the house elves deliver some food to your room. Also, Prof. Dumbledore wanted me to let you know that he is deeply sorry to hear you ran into a spot of trouble over the summer; as am I. Unfortunately, neither of us were made aware of the situation. Otherwise, we would certainly have intervened!

As you know, we don't think it would be wise for you to stay at the school over the summers since the headmaster cannot be seen to be favoring particular students. However, I would be thrilled to have you stay with me at my home - assuming that you would like to do so? You've got plenty of time to decide, so think it over and send me your response whenever you're ready.

The note wasn't signed, but I recognized Snape's handwriting. I had to read it twice before I could grasp what I'd just read. I couldn't believe it! I was finally going to have a place to stay; other than Hogwarts, that I actually was happy to be! Sure, the Malfoy's place had been an unexpected miracle, but the place was too large and empty for my taste. 

I didn't give it a second thought. I rushed to write my reply; that yes, I would love to stay with him over the summer, quickly ate the dinner, then got ready for bed.

I have the best godfather in the world! I love you, Severus Snape, I mumbled as I drifted off to sleep.

********************************************

In-Line Comments

\- Betcha never thought you'd hear someone say that about Severus Snape! But spoiler alert - he's not her only godfather so the verdict on who's the best is still out! But you're gonna have to wait till later in the series to find out more about that :p


	29. The Chamber of Secrets (Part 1)

Katrina's POV

For a few days, the school could talk of little else but the attack on Mrs. Norris. 

When Filch wasn't guarding the scene of the crime, he was skulking red-eyed through the corridors, lunging out at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention for things like "breathing loudly" and "looking happy."

Ginny Weasley seemed very disturbed by Mrs. Norris's fate as well.

"Stuff like this doesn't often happen at Hogwarts," Ron continued. "They'll catch the maniac who did it and have him out of here in no time. I just hope he's got time to Petrify Filch before he's expelled. I'm only joking -" Ron added hastily as he saw the look on my face.

It was quite usual for Hermione and I to spend a lot of time reading, but after the attack, Hermione was spending even more time at the library. Quidditch practice kept me pretty busy, so I was unable to join her unless it was to do homework.

On Wednesday, I walked to the back of the library to finish up the last of my assignments. When I got to our usual table, I found Ron and Harry measuring their History of Magic essays. Professor Binns had asked for a three-foot-long composition on "The Medieval Assembly of European Wizards." I had already finished it a few days ago and just needed to work on the essay that Snape had assigned us the other day.

"I don't believe it, I'm still eight inches short..." said Ron furiously, letting go of his parchment, which sprang back into a roll. "And Hermione's done four feet seven inches and her writing's tiny."

"Where is she?" I asked as I sat down and pulled out a roll of parchment, my quill, and a bottle of ink.

"Somewhere over there," said Ron, pointing along the shelves. 

I looked over at Harry who had taken the measuring tape and was measuring his own essay. "What's wrong, Harry?" I asked. I always knew when my best friend was upset. He huffed dejectedly, and told us about how Justin Finch-Fletchley had ran away from him earlier that day when the two had come have to face with each other.

"Dunno why you care. I thought he was a bit of an idiot," said Ron, scribbling away, making his writing as large as possible.

"I wonder why he ran..." I said, tilting my head to the left.

Hermione emerged from between the bookshelves looked irritated. "All the copies of Hogwarts, A History have been taken out," she said, sitting down on the other side of Harry. "And there's a two-week waiting list. I wish I hadn't left my copy at home, but I couldn't fit it in my trunk with all the Lockhart books."

I huffed. I wasn't surprised. That pathetic excuse for a teacher had made everyone buy all his books just for the sake if making more money...

"Why do you want it?" Harry asked.

"The same reason everyone else wants it," said Hermione, "to read up on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets."

"What's that?" I asked at the same time as Harry; earning him another quick nudge in the shoulder and a whispered, "jinx."

"That's just it. I can't remember," said Hermione, biting her lip. "And I can't find the story anywhere else -"

"Hermione, let me read your composition," said Ron desperately, checking his watch.

"No, I won't," said Hermione, suddenly severe. "You've had ten days to finish it -"

"I only need another two inches, come on -" But Hermione refused and Ron knew he couldn't ask me for help while she still sat with us. 

I was more inclined to help than Hermione, but I would follow her lead whenever she was around and say no. We sat scribbling in silence until the bell rang for class.

Ron and Hermione led the way to Transfiguration, bickering the entire time. Harry and I just rolled our eyes and followed them quietly.

I smiled at Minnie as we entered and sat down. She returned it before turning sharply to face the class and beginning lecture. She had barely started when I Hermione's hand shot up into the air.

"Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets," she said bluntly. 

"My subject is Transfiguration," she said looking down at Hermione sternly. But as she glanced around the room and saw our eager and attentive faces, she sighed

She then began to tell us the legend behind the Chamber of Secrets. A mysterious chamber of Hogwarts that was said to be home to a monstrous beast that only the Heir of Slytherin could control. Apparently it was said that the Heir would return and complete Salazar's "noble" work of ridding Hogwarts of all the muggle borns...

There was silence as she finished telling the story. There was unease in the air as everyone continued to watch her, hoping for more. But I could tell that Minnie was getting slightly annoyed.

"The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course," she said. "Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible."

Hermione's hand was back in the air. "Professor - what exactly do you mean by the 'horror within' the Chamber?"

"That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control," she answered slowly. The class exchanged nervous looks.

"I tell you, the thing does not exist. There is no Chamber and no monster."

"But," said Seamus Finnigan, "if the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin's true heir, no one else would be able to find it, would they?"

"That will do," she said sharply. "It is a myth! It does not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much as a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish story! We will return, if you please, to the subject at hand.

********************************************

"I always knew Salazar Slytherin was a twisted old loony," Ron told Harry, Hermione, and I as we fought our way through the teeming corridors at the end of the lesson to drop off our bags before dinner. "But I never knew he started all this pure-blood stuff. I wouldn't be in his House if you paid me. Honestly, if the Sorting Hat had tried to put me in Slytherin, I'd've got the train straight back home..."

Hermione nodded fervently, but Harry and I looked down at our feet. I felt my face heat up as my stomach dropped unpleasantly. Harry had never told Ron and Hermione that the Sorting Hat had seriously considered putting him in Slytherin. As for me, the whole school knew I had almost been placed there.

As we were shunted along in the throng of students, Colin Creevey went past."Hiya, Harry, Katrina!"

"Hullo, Colin," we said automatically.

"Harry - Harry - a boy in my class has been saying you're -" But Colin was so small he couldn't fight against the tide of people bearing him toward the Great Hall; we heard him squeak, "See you, Harry! See you, Katrina!" and he was gone.

"What's a boy in his class saying about you?" Hermione wondered.

"That I'm Slytherin's heir, I expect," said Harry.

"People here'll believe anything," said Ron in disgust. The crowd thinned and we were able to climb the next staircase without difficulty.

"D'you really think there's a Chamber of Secrets?" Ron asked looking at Hermione.

"I don't know," she said, frowning. "Dumbledore couldn't cure Mrs. Norris, and that makes me think that whatever attacked her might not be - well - human." As she spoke, we turned a corner and found ourselves at the end of the very corridor where the attack had happened. 

We stopped and looked. The scene was just as it had been that night, except that there was no stiff cat hanging from the torch bracket, and an empty chair stood against the wall bearing the message "The Chamber of Secrets Has Been Opened."

"That's where Filch has been keeping guard," Ron muttered. We looked at each other. The corridor was deserted.

"Can't hurt to have a poke around," said Harry, dropping his bag and getting to his hands and knees so that he could crawl along, searching for clues. I stood there watching him, having no desire to get down on my knees at the moment.

"Scorch marks!" he said. "Here - and here -"

"Come and look at this!" said Hermione. "This is funny..." Harry got up and joined me as we crossed to the window next to the message on the wall. Hermione was pointing at the top-most pane, where around twenty spiders were scuttling, apparently fighting to get through a small crack. 

"Have you ever seen spiders act like that?" said Hermione wonderingly.

"No," said Harry, "have you, Kat? Ron?" 

"Ron?"

I looked over my shoulder. Ron was standing well back and seemed to be fighting the impulse to run.

"What's up?" 

"I - don't - like - spiders," said Ron tensely. 

"I never knew that," said Hermione, looking at Ron in surprise. "You've used spiders in Potions loads of times..."

"I don't mind them dead," said Ron, who was carefully looking anywhere but at the window. "I just don't like the way they move..."

Hermione giggled. "It's not funny," said Ron, fiercely. "If you must know, when I was three, Fred turned my - my teddy bear into a great big filthy spider because I broke his toy broomstick... You wouldn't like them either if you'd been holding your bear and suddenly it had too many legs and..."

He broke off, shuddering. Hermione was obviously still trying not to laugh. 

"Remember all that water on the floor? Where did that come from? Someone's mopped it up." Harry asked in an attempt to change the subject.

"It was about here," said Ron, recovering himself to walk a few paces past Filch's chair and pointing. "Level with this door." He reached for the brass doorknob but suddenly withdrew his hand as though he'd been burned.

"What's the matter?" said Harry as I laughed at Ron's reaction.

"Can't go in there," said Ron gruffly. "That's a girls' toilet."

"Oh, Ron, there won't be anyone in there," I assured him. "That's Moaning Myrtle's place. Come on, let's have a look." And ignoring the large out of order sign, I opened the door.

"Hello, Myrtle, how are you?" I asked as we stepped inside.

"This is a girls' bathroom," she said, eyeing Ron and Harry suspiciously. "They're not girls."

"No," Hermione agreed. "We just wanted to show them how - er - nice it is in here." She waved vaguely at the dirty old mirror and the damp floor.

"Ask her if she saw anything," I saw Harry mouth to Hermione.

"What are you whispering?" said Myrtle, staring at him.

"Nothing," said Harry quickly. "We wanted to ask -"

"I wish people would stop talking behind my back!" said Myrtle, in a voice choked with tears. "I do have feelings, you know, even if I am dead -"

"Myrtle, no one wants to upset you," said Hermione. "Harry only -"

"No one wants to upset me! That's a good one!" howled Myrtle. I furrowed my brows as I predicted this conversation going nowhere productive.

I was right. Let's just say, it didn't end well and we didn't learn anything useful!

"Honestly, that was almost cheerful for Myrtle...Come on, let's go." I lead the way back towards the door and walked out.

Harry had barely closed the door on Myrtle's gurgling sobs when a loud voice made all four of us jump.

"RON!" Percy Weasley had stopped dead at the head of the stairs, prefect badge agleam, an expression of complete shock on his face.

"That's a girls' bathroom!" he gasped. "What were you -"

"Just having a look around," Ron shrugged. "Clues, you know -"

Percy swelled up and puffed out his chest. "Get - away - from - there -" Percy said, striding toward us and flapping his arms to get us to move along. "Don't you care what this looks like? Coming back here while everyone's at dinner -"

"Why shouldn't we be here?" said Ron hotly, stopping short and glaring at Percy. "Listen, we never laid a finger on that cat!"

"That's what I told Ginny," said Percy fiercely, "but she still seems to think you're going to be expelled, I've never seen her so upset, crying her eyes out, you might think of her -"

"You don't care about Ginny," said Ron, whose ears were now reddening. "You're just worried I'm going to mess up your chances of being Head Boy -"

"Five points from Gryffindor!" Percy said tersely, fingering his prefect badge. "And no more detective work, or I'll write to Mum!" And he strode off, the back of his neck as red as Ron's ears.

We chose seats as far as possible from Percy in the common room that night. Ron was still in a very bad temper and kept blotting his Charms homework. When he reached absently for his wand to remove the smudges, it ignited the parchment. Fuming almost as much as his homework, Ron slammed The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 shut. 

To my surprise, Hermione followed suit. "Who can it be, though?" she said in a quiet voice, as though continuing a conversation we had just been having. "Who'd want to frighten all the Squibs and Muggle-borns out of Hogwarts?"

"Let's think," said Ron in mock puzzlement. "Who do we know who thinks Muggle-borns are scum?" He looked at Hermione. Hermione looked back, unconvinced.

"If you're talking about Malfoy -"

"Of course I am!" said Ron. "You heard him -'You'll be next, Mudbloods!' - come on, you've only got to look at his foul rat face to know it's him!"

"Ron! Don't talk about him like that!" I admonished angrily. Draco had been nothing but nice to me over the summer.

"He's right though. Look at his family," said Harry, closing his books, too. "The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin; he's always boasting about it. They could easily be Slytherin's descendants. His father's definitely evil enough." 

"His father, sure -" I conceded, "but there's no way Draco would do something like that to Mrs Norris!"

"They could've had the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!" said Ron. "Handing it down, father to son..." 

"Well," said Hermione cautiously, "I suppose it's possible..." 

I frowned at her. Why were none of them willing to listen to me?!

"But how do we prove it?" said Harry darkly.

"I told you guys! It's not Draco!"

"Hey, how about Kat tries to get it out of him while we hide somewhere and listen in?" Ron suggested enthusiastically. "He'd tell her anything if it made him look good.

"Ron! I will NOT trick Draco! He's my friend!"

"There might be another way," said Hermione slowly, dropping her voice still further with a quick glance across the room at Percy. "Of course, it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We'd be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect -"

"If, in a month or so, you feel like explaining, you will let us know, won't you?" said Ron irritably.

"All right," said Hermione coldly. "What we'd need to do is to get inside the Slytherin common room and ask Malfoy a few questions without him realizing it's us."

"But that's impossible," Harry said as Ron laughed.

"No, it's not," said Hermione. "All we'd need would be some Polyjuice Potion."

"What's that?" said Ron and Harry together.

"Snape mentioned it in class a few weeks ago -" I muttered, not liking where this conversation was going one bit. This was Quirrell all over again! Honestly, I was kind of surprised that none of them had accused Sev of being the Heir!

"D'you think we've got nothing better to do in Potions than listen to Snape?" muttered Ron.

"It transforms you into somebody else. Think about it! No one would know it was us. Malfoy would probably tell us anything."

"This Polyjuice stuff sounds a bit dodgy to me," said Ron, frowning. "What if we were stuck looking like four of the Slytherin's forever?"

"It wears off after a while," said Hermione, waving her hand impatiently. "But getting hold of the recipe will be very difficult. Snape said it was in a book called Moste Potente Potions and it's bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library."

There was only one way to get out a book from the Restricted Section: You needed a signed note of permission from a teacher.

"Hard to see why we'd want the book, really," said Ron, "if we weren't going to try and make one of the potions."

"I think," said Hermione, "that if we made it sound as though we were just interested in the theory, we might stand a chance...."

"Oh, come on, no teacher's going to fall for that," said Ron."They'd have to be really thick..."

"Well...I know who you can ask. It's an obvious choice - just ask Lockhart. He'll sign anything that's put in front of him! - But I am NOT having anything to do with this plan of yours. You got that? I want nothing to do with it. Draco is NOT the heir of Slytherin! I spent my entire summer with him. If he really was capable of something like this, I would know!"

I gathered up all my stuff and stormed out of the room. Why couldn't they just trust me on this? This was just like last year. I know they didn't get along with Draco but still...to think he'd do something as horrendous as that?! Ugh, right when I thought everything was going okay between my friends something like this had to happen and pit them against each other. If I ever find out who the heir really is, I'm tackling him down just for complicating my life more that it already was!


	30. Gryffindor v. Slytherin

Katrina's POV

Since the disastrous episode of the pixies, Professor Lockhart had not brought live creatures to class. Instead, he read passages from his books to us, and sometimes reenacted some of the more dramatic bits. He usually picked Harry to help him with these reconstructions. Harry hated it, but I found it hilarious! Did enjoying his torment at the hands of Lockhart make me a bad friend?

Harry was hauled to the front of the class during our very next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, this time acting a werewolf. After the discussion in the common room last night, I knew my friends had a very good reason for keeping Lockhart in a good mood, so he was actually putting in effort this time; though he looked horrified at having to do so.

The bell rang and Lockhart got to his feet.

"Homework - compose a poem about my defeat of the WaggaWagga Werewolf! Signed copies of Magical Me to the author of the best one!"

The class began to leave but I couldn't move. I was dying from laughter. Harry  gave me a death-glare before returning to the back of the room, where Ron and Hermione were waiting.

"Ready?" I heard Harry mutter. My laughter subsided as I remembered why they needed Lockhart's help.

"Wait till everyone's gone," said Hermione nervously. "Alright..." She approached Lockhart's desk, a piece of paper clutched tightly in her hand, Harry and Ron right behind her. I stayed in my seat, not wanting to be involved but still interested in seeing if their plan worked.

Er - Professor Lockhart?" Hermione stammered. "I wanted to - to get this book out of the library. Just for background reading." She held out the piece of paper, her hand shaking slightly. "But the thing is, it's in the Restricted Section of the library, so I need a teacher to sign for it - I'm sure it would help me understand what you say in Gadding with Ghouls about slow-acting venoms -"

"Ah, Gadding with Ghouls!" said Lockhart, taking the note from Hermione and smiling widely at her. "Possibly my very favorite book. You enjoyed it?" 

"Oh, yes," said Hermione eagerly. "So clever, the way you trapped that last one with the tea-strainer -"

"Well, I'm sure no one will mind me giving the best student of the year a little extra help," said Lockhart warmly, and he pulled out an enormous peacock quill. 

"Yes, nice, isn't it?" he said, misreading the revolted look on Ron's face. I myself almost choked as my eyes landed on the hideous monstrosity.

"I usually save it for book signings." He scrawled an enormous loopy signature on the note and handed it back to Hermione. 

"Well...congrats, I suppose...not that the odds were stacked against you. I told you he would sign anything. He didn't even look at it!" I said as they packed up their things. They left without me, while I took my time. I knew they were busy scheming and plotting how to trick Draco into revealing something he was not. 

Unfortunately for me, taking my time meant that I was left all alone with Professor Lockhart...A fact that I didn't become fully aware of until I felt his hot breath on the back of my neck. 

I twisted around quickly and winced as I scraped my back against the desk that I had been using. 

"Well, well, well, Kat. Stayed behind I see..."

"Yeah, sorry, I was just leaving!" I said, hurrying to pack the rest of my things.

Lockhart's hand slammed down on top of mine, stopping me from stuffing my parchment back into my bag. 

He stepped in closer and I caught a whiff of brandy on his breath. Bloody hell, he's been drinking! 

He leaned closer and closer and I could feel the edge of the desk digging into my back as I bent back as far as I could. But eventually I had no where left to go and was stuck between my desk, and the man before me.

"For months now you have been teasing me, little Kitty, and I'm tired of the games."

"I-I don't know what you're talking a-b-bout. And my name is Katrina!" 

"Let's get straight to the point, I like you, you like me, no need to pretend like you hate me anymore. I can see your true feelings and it's about time someone gave you what you wanted little Kitty." 

I closed my eyes in disgust as Lockhart closed the rest of the distance between us and locked his lips onto mine. 

A loud coughing sound tore through the silent classroom and I breathed a sigh of relief as Lockhart jumped away from me. I looked over to the doorway to see who my rescuer was, only to find -

"Um...sorry, I forgot my ink and just came back to get it," said Neville. He was glaring at Professor Lockhart and if the situation hadn't been what it was, I would have been shocked to see Neville like this. I snatched up my parchment and bag and darted over to Neville as fast as was humanly possible and we left in a flurry of movement.

"Thanks, Neville! You really saved me back there!" I said, hugging Neville tightly. He blushed red but hugged me back. 

"Kat, you need to tell Professor McGonagall about this!"

"Neville! I can't, I just, I just can't...it's too embarrassing! And you have to promise me you won't tell Harry or Hermione, or anyone else for that matter!"

Neville shook his head, clearly not thinking I was making the right choice, but thankfully, he agreed not to tell anyone. But from then on, Neville and I became closer than we ever had before. What with Harry, Hermione, and Ron spending all their time working on their Polyjuice Potion, I didn't want to hang out with them anyways.

Instead, I spent my evenings with Neville and together we sat in the Gryffindor common room working on homework. Neville also became my new shadow in Defense Against the Dark Arts classes or whenever Lockhart showed up near me outside of class, which I was eternally grateful for, not wanting a repeat of what had happened...

********************************************

I woke early on Saturday morning and lay for a while thinking about the coming Quidditch match. I was nervous, mainly at the thought of what Wood would say if Gryffindor lost, but also at the idea of facing a team mounted on the fastest racing brooms gold could buy. I knew we were going to have our work cut out for us.

After half an hour of lying there with my insides churning, I got up, dressed, and went down to breakfast early, where I found the rest of the Gryffindor team huddled at the long, empty table, all looking uptight and not speaking much. As eleven o'clock approached, the whole school started to make its' way down to the Quidditch stadium. 

It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air. Ron and Hermione came hurrying over to wish Harry and I good luck as we entered the locker rooms. We all pulled on our scarlet Gryffindor robes, then sat down to listen to Wood's usual pre-match pep talk.

"It'll be down to you, Harry, to show them that a Seeker has to have something more than a rich father. Get to that Snitch before Malfoy or die trying, Harry, because we've got to win today, we've got to." 

I blinked, he was being a bit dramatic if you ask me.

"So no pressure, Harry," said Fred, winking at him. As we walked out onto the field, a roar of noise greeted us; mainly cheers, because Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were anxious to see Slytherin beaten, but the Slytherins in the crowd made their boos and hisses heard, too. 

Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, asked Flint and Wood to shake hands, which they did, giving each other threatening stares and gripping rather harder than was necessary.

"On my whistle," said Madam Hooch. "Three...two...one..." With a roar from the crowd to speed us upward, we rose toward the leaden sky. Harry flew higher than any of us, squinting around for the Snitch. 

"All right there, Scarhead?" I heard Draco yell in his direction. I had no time to look at them though. At that very moment, a heavy black Bludger had come pelting toward me; I avoided it so narrowly that I felt it ruffle my hair as it passed.

"Be careful, Kat!" said Fred, streaking past me with his club in his hand, ready to knock the Bludger back toward a Slytherin. I saw Fred give the Bludger a powerful whack in the direction of Adrian Pucey, but the Bludger changed direction in midair and shot straight for me again.

I dropped quickly to avoid it, and Fred managed to hit it hard toward Flint. Once again, the Bludger swerved like a boomerang and shot at my head. I put on a burst of speed and zoomed toward the other end of the field. I could hear the Bludger whistling along behind me. I was starting to get scared.

What was going on? Bludgers never concentrated on one player like this; it was their job to try and unseat as many people as possible...

"Gotcha!" Fred yelled happily as he swung at it again, but he was wrong; as though it was magnetically attracted to me, the Bludger chased after me once more and I was forced to fly off at full speed.

It had started to rain; I felt heavy drops fall onto my face. I didn't have a clue what was going on in the rest of the game until I heard Lee Jordan, who was commentating, say, "Slytherin lead, sixty points to zero -" I cursed, if only I was able to focus on scoring!

The Slytherins' superior brooms were clearly doing their jobs, and meanwhile the mad Bludger was doing all it could to knock me out of the air. Fred was now flying so close to me that I could see nothing at all except his flailing arms and had no chance to grab the quaffle, let alone score it.

"Someone's - tampered - with - this - Bludger -" Fred grunted, swinging his bat with all his might at it as it launched a new attack on me.

"We need time out," said George, trying to signal to Wood and stop the Bludger breaking my nose at the same time. Wood had obviously got the message. Madam Hooch's whistle rang out and I dived for the ground, still trying to avoid the mad Bludger.

"What's going on?" said Wood as the Gryffindor team huddled together, while Slytherins in the crowd jeered. "We're being flattened. Fred, George, where have you been all game? And Kat? Why haven't you been scoring!"

"We were stopping the Bludgers from murdering Harry, and Kat, Oliver," said George angrily. "Someone's fixed them - they won't leave Harry or Kat alone. They haven't gone for anyone else all game. The Slytherins must have done something to them!"

"But the Bludgers have been locked in Madam Hooch's office since our last practice, and there was nothing wrong with them then..." said Wood, anxiously. Madam Hooch was walking toward us. Over her shoulder, I could see the Slytherin team jeering and pointing in our direction. 

"Listen," said Harry as she came nearer and nearer, "with you two flying around us all the time the only way I'm going to catch the Snitch is if it flies up my sleeve."

"Yeah, there's no way I'll be able to score with you following me around!" I added.

"Go back to the rest of the team and let us deal with them on our own.

"Don't be thick," said Fred. "It'll take your heads off." Wood was looking from Harry and I to the Weasleys.

"Oliver, this is insane," said Alicia Spinnet angrily. "You can't let them deal with those things on their own. Let's ask for an inquiry -"

"If we stop now, we'll have to forfeit the match!" said Harry. "And we're not losing to Slytherin just because of two crazy Bludgers! Come on, Oliver, tell them to leave us alone!"

"This is all your fault," George said angrily to Wood. "'Get the snitch or die trying,' what a stupid thing to tell him, and what about Kat! She could get seriously injured -" Madam Hooch had joined us.

"Ready to resume play?" she asked Wood. Wood looked at the determined looks on our faces.

"All right," he said. "Fred, George, you heard Harry and Kat - leave them alone and let them deal with the Bludgers on their own." The rain was falling more heavily now. On Madam Hooch's whistle, I kicked hard into the air and heard the telltale whoosh of the Bludger behind me. 

Higher and higher I climbed; I looked over to the Gryffindor goal posts, where Adrian Pucey was trying to get past Wood - before he could get the chance to do anything, I managed to steal the quaffle as my personal Bludger soared past my ear. I rushed, swerved, and dogged the Bludger as I made my way to the Slytherin end of the pitch.

"GRYFFINDOR SCORES!" Lee Jordan yelled excitedly. WHAM.

I had stayed still a second too long. The Bludger came pelting at me and smashed into the side of my head. I toppled of my broom and went crashing to the ground as my vision went black.

********************************************

"Get off!" I woke up as I heard someone shout out. I sat up and looked around. I was in the hospital wing. I winced as I reached up and felt the bandages wrapped around my head. 

"Dobby!"

I straightened up as I heard Harry shout in surprise from the bed next to mine. I glanced over to see the house-elf's goggling tennis ball eyes were peering at us through the darkness. A single tear was running down his long, pointed nose.

"Harry Potter and Katrina came back to school," he whispered miserably. "Dobby warned and warned you. Ah, why didn't you heed Dobby? Why didn't Harry Potter go back home when he missed the train?" 

"Dobby, you spent the entire summer trying to convince me not to go back, but then why did you let me in through the barrier and not Harry?"

"Ah, missis...I was ordered not to interfere with my master's plans for you - which involved you getting to Hogwarts safely. But he never said anything about you staying! Dobby thought his Bludgers would be enough to make the two of you -"

"Your Bludgers?" Harry and I shouted in anger. I loved the elf but sometimes...

"Whatd'you mean, your Bludgers? You made those Bludgers try and kill us?

"Not kill you, never kill you!" said Dobby, shocked. "Dobby wants to save your lives. Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here!"

"Dobby I don't have a home to be sent back to!" I growled furiously.

"I don't suppose you're going to tell us why you wanted us sent home in pieces?"

"Ah, if Harry Potter and Katrina only knew!" Dobby groaned, more tears dripping onto his ragged pillowcase. "If they knew what Harry Potter means to us, to the lowly, the enslaved, we dregs of the magical world! Dobby remembers how it was when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his powers, sir! We house-elves were treated like vermin, sir! Of course, Dobby is still treated like that," he admitted, drying his face on the pillowcase. 

"Terrible things are to happen, are perhaps happening already, and Dobby cannot let Harry Potter or Katrina stay here now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more -" Dobby froze, horrorstruck, then grabbed Harry's water jug from his bedside table and cracked it over his own head, toppling out of sight.

"So there is a Chamber of Secrets?" Harry whispered. "And - did you say it's been opened before? Tell us, Dobby!" He seized the elf's bony wrist as Dobby's hand inched toward the water jug. 

"But I'm not Muggle-born - how can I be in danger from the Chamber?"

"Yeah, and what do I have to do with all of this? What do you mean your master's plans? What does Lucius want with me?!"

"Ah, ask no more, ask no more of poor Dobby," stammered the elf, his eyes huge in the dark. "Dark deeds are planned in this place, but Harry Potter and Katrina must not be here when they happen - go home.

"Who is it, Dobby?" Harry said, keeping a firm hold on Dobby's wrist to stop him from hitting himself with the water jug again. "Who's opened it? Who opened it last time?"

"Dobby can't, sir, Dobby can't, Dobby mustn't tell!" squealed theelf. "Go home, go home!"

"We're not going anywhere!" We said fiercely. "One of our best friends is Muggle-born; she'll be first in line if the Chamber really has been opened - we suddenly froze. There were footsteps coming down the passageway outside.

"Dobby must go!" breathed the elf, terrified. There was a loud crack, and he was gone. Harry and I quickly slumped back into bed and feigned sleep.

Next moment, grandfather was backing into the dormitory, wearing a long woolly dressing gown and a nightcap. He was carrying one end of what looked like a statue. Professor McGonagall appeared a second later, carrying its' feet. 

Together, they heaved it onto a bed. "Get Madam Pomfrey," whispered Dumbledore, and Professor McGonagall hurried past the end of my bed out of sight. 

"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey whispered to Dumbledore, bending over the statue on the bed. 

"Another attack," said Dumbledore. "Minerva found him on the stairs." I glanced over cautiously to see who it was. It was Colin Creevey. His eyes were wide and his hands were stuck up in front of him, holding his camera.

"Petrified?" whispered Madam Pomfrey.

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "But I shudder to think...If Albus hadn't been on the way downstairs for hot chocolate - who knows what might have -" He likes hot chocolate?! So do I! Did I get that from him?

The three of them stared down at Colin. Then Dumbledore leaned forward and wrenched the camera out of Colin's rigid grip.

"You don't think he managed to get a picture of his attacker?" Said Professor McGonagall eagerly. Dumbledore didn't answer. He opened the back of the camera.

"Good gracious!" said Madam Pomfrey. A jet of steam had hissed out of the camera. 

"Melted," said Madam Pomfrey wonderingly. "All melted..."

"What does this mean, Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked urgently.

"It means," said Dumbledore, "that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again." Madam Pomfrey clapped a hand to her mouth. Professor McGonagall stared at Dumbledore.

"But, Albus...surely...who?"

"The question is not who," said Dumbledore, his eyes on Colin. "The question is, how..." And from what I could see of Minnie's shadowy face, she didn't understand this any better than I did.


	31. The Duelling Club

Katrina's POV

I woke up on Sunday morning to find the hospital wing blazing with winter sunlight. The bandages on my head had been removed, but it still felt very stiff. I sat up quickly and looked over at Colin's bed, but it had been blocked from view by the high curtains.

Seeing that I was awake, Madam Pomfrey came bustling over with a breakfast tray and then began examining me all over before moving on to examine Harry.

"All in order," she said. "When you've finished eating, you two may leave."

We dressed as quickly as we could and hurried off to Gryffindor Tower, desperate to tell Ron and Hermione about Colin and Dobby, but they weren't there. We left the tower and started for the library.

As we passed the library, Percy Weasley strolled out of it, looking in far better spirits than last time we'd met.

"Oh, hello, Harry, Katrina," he said. "Excellent flying yesterday, really excellent. Gryffindor has just taken the lead for the House Cup - you earned fifty points!"

"You haven't seen Ron or Hermione, have you?" said Harry.

"No, I haven't," said Percy, his smile fading. "I hope Ron's not in another girls' toilet..."

We forced ourselves to laugh, watched Percy walk out of sight, and then headed straight for Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. We opened the door and heard their voices coming from a locked stall.

"It's us, Harry said, closing the door behind him. There was a clunk, a splash, and a gasp from within the stall and I saw Hermione's eye peering through the keyhole.

"Harry! Katrina!" she said. "You gave us such a fright - come in - how's your arm? How's your head?"

Harry, squeezed into the stall but there wasn't room for me, not that I wanted to help anyways. 

"You know what, I think I forgot to do that Charms essay! So, I'm just...gonna go and finish it up. See you guys later!" I said as I dashed out of the bathroom. I didn't want any part in their scheme to fool Draco. I wandered aimlessly through the hallways; not knowing what to do. I'd finished that essay 3 days ago! As I turned a corner, I ran into a solid body.

"Neville, what are you doing here?"

"I'm on my way to the library to try and finish up that Charms essay we were assigned. I'm having a lot of trouble with it."

"Well I'm not doing anything right now, would you like some help?"

"Oh, really? I would love that! Thank you so much!"

We made our way to the library and sat down at our usual table.

********************************************

The news that Colin Creevey had been attacked and was now lying as though dead in the hospital wing had spread through the entire school by Monday morning. 

Ginny Weasley, who sat next to Colin Creevey in Charms, was distraught, but I felt that Fred and George were going the wrong way about cheering her up. They were taking turns covering themselves with fur or boils and jumping out at her from behind statues. They only stopped when Percy, apoplectic with rage, told them he was going to write to Mrs. Weasley and tell her Ginny was having nightmares.

Meanwhile, hidden from the teachers, a roaring trade in talismans, amulets, and other protective devices was sweeping the school. Neville bought a large, evil smelling green onion, a pointed purple crystal, and a rotting newt tail before I pointed out that he was in no danger; he was a pureblood, and therefore unlikely to be attacked.

"They went for Filch first," Neville said, his round face fearful. "And everyone knows I'm almost a Squib."

In the second week of December Professor McGonagall came around as usual, collecting names of those who would be staying at school for Christmas. I signed the list immediately since I really didn't have anywhere else to go anyways. Harry, Ron, and Hermione signed her list as well; they had heard that Malfoy was staying, which struck them as very  
suspicious. 

I knew they were thinking the holidays would be the perfect time to use the Polyjuice Potion and try to worm a confession out of him. While I still hung out with them as much as possible, I refused to partake in any conversation of their plan so I wasn't sure how far along they were.

Potions lessons took place in one of the large dungeons. Thursday afternoon's lesson proceeded in the usual way. Snape prowled through the fumes, making waspish remarks about the Gryffindors' work while the Slytherins sniggered appreciatively. 

It was unfair but I'd tried and failed enough times to know better than to try and change this.

Things were going relatively fine until suddenly, Goyle's potion exploded, showering the whole class. People shrieked as splashes of the Swelling Solution hit them. Draco got a faceful and his nose began to swell like a balloon; Goyle blundered around, his hands over his eyes, which had expanded to the size of a dinner plate - Snape was trying to restore calm and find out what had happened. 

Through the confusion, I saw Hermione slip quietly into Snape's office. I narrowed my eyes in suspicion as I watched her sidle back out, the front of her robes bulging.

"Silence! SILENCE!" Snape roared. "Anyone who has been splashed, come here for a Deflating Draught - when I find out who did this -"

When everyone had taken a swig of antidote and the various swellings had subsided, Snape swept over to Goyle's cauldron and scooped out the twisted black remains of the firework. There was a sudden hush.

"If I ever find out who threw this," Snape whispered, "I shall make sure that person is expelled." 

I glared at Harry knowingly. This had to have something to do with that PolyJuice Potion they were making. I stormed out at the end of class and sat next to Neville again.

I was spending more and more time with him lately and there was a lot more to him than there seemed to be on the surface. He was nice, funny, and kind. When left to his own devices he was actually quite good at spells; it was only when everyone was watching that he slipped up since he was terribly shy.

********************************************

A week later, Neville and I were walking across the entrance hall when we saw a small knot of people gathered around the notice board, reading a piece of parchment that had just been pinned up. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas beckoned us over, looking excited.

"They're starting a Dueling Club!" said Seamus. "First meeting tonight! I wouldn't mind dueling lessons; they might come in handy one of these days..."

"What, you reckon Slytherin's monster can duel?" said Ron, who had come up behind us followed by Harry and Hermione. "Could be useful," he said to Harry and Hermione. "Shall we go?"

They walked off and I didn't hear their answer. I rounded on Neville.

"Come on Neville! We should go!" Neville shuffled his feet and muttered into the floor. I shook my head and spent the entire dinner time trying to convince him. In the end I had to drag him along behind me.

The Great Hall had been transformed since dinner. The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead.

"I wonder who'll be teaching us?" said Hermione as she Harry and Ron edged into the chattering crowd to join Neville and I. "Someone told me Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young - maybe it'll be him."

"As long as it's not -" Harry and I began, but we ended on a groan: Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Snape, wearing his usual black.

Neville squeezed my hand reassuringly and I squeezed it back to show my thanks. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Harry staring at our hands in confusion. I still hadn't told him what had happened with Lockhart since I knew it would just make him more angry. It wasn't like there was anything that he could do and thankfully, Neville had remained true to his word and not told a soul either.

Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called, "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent! Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions - for full details, see my published works. Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry - you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"

"Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Ron muttered to us. 

I frowned at him. That was my godfather he was talking about!

Snape's upper lip was curling and I wondered why Lockhart was still smiling; if Snape had been looking at me like that I'd have been running as fast as I could in the opposite direction.

Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.

"On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

"I wouldn't bet on that," Harry murmured, watching Snape baring his teeth.

"One - two - three -"

Snape cried: "Expelliarmus!" There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

Draco and some of the other Slytherins cheered; myself included. Hermione was dancing on tiptoes. "Do you think he's all right?" she squealed through her fingers.

"Who cares?" said Harry, Ron, and I together.

"Well, there you have it!" Lockhart said, tottering back onto the platform. "That was a Disarming Charm - as you see, I've lost my wand - ah, thank you, Miss Brown - yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy - however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see..."

Snape was looking murderous. Possibly Lockhart had noticed, because he said, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me -"

They moved through the crowd, matching up partners and Snape reached Harry and Ron first.

"Time to split up the dream team, I think," he sneered. "Weasley, you can partner Finnigan. Potter -" Harry moved automatically toward Hermione and I.

"I don't think so," said Snape, smiling coldly. "Mr. Malfoy, come over here. Let's see what you make of the famous Potter. And you, Miss Granger - you can partner Miss Bulstrode. Katrina, you'll be with Miss Parkinson." I shuddered as I walked over to Pansy. 

"Hey, loser! It's payback time!"

"Payback for what? I haven't done anything to you!"

"You don't think I've seen the way Draco has been acting with you lately? It's pathetic. I don't know what spell you have him under but it ends today."

"I haven't put a spell on -" before I could finish, a voice shouted out above the crowd.

"Face your partners!" called Lockhart, back on the platform. "And bow!"

Pansy and I barely inclined our heads, not taking our eyes off each other.

"Wands at the ready!" shouted Lockhart. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents - only to disarm them - we don't want any accidents - one...two...three -"

I swung my wand high, but Pansy had already started on "two": her spell hit me so hard I felt as though I'd been hit over the head with a saucepan. I stumbled, but everything still seemed to be working, and wasting no more time, I pointed my wand straight at Pansy and shouted, "expelliarmus!" as Snape had done with Lockhart.

"I said disarm only!" Lockhart shouted in alarm over the heads of the students as clearly half of them had used other spells.

Pansy looked at her wand less hand and then suddenly charged at me, tackling me to the ground. I tried to point my wand at her and cast a spell but she had trapped my arms underneath her big body and I couldn't move them.

"Stop! Stop!" screamed Lockhart, but Snape took charge.

"Finite Incantatem!" he shouted; the room stilled as everything stopped.

Pansy looked around for a second before continuing to punch me. I whimpered as her fist collided painfully with my cheek. Then I felt the rage build up within me like it had over the summer and I froze. I didn't want everyone in the hall to realize what I could do! But I couldn't stop it and when her position shifted enough on my arms, I quickly raised them up, palms facing her. 

I tried to close my eyes to avoid seeing what was about to happen, but I needn't have worried as much. Instead of flames bursting out, a strong gust of wind knocked her off of me and sent her flying across the room. Amidst the haze of greenish smog that had covered the room, my actions went largely unnoticed. I struggled to sit up until a pair of warm hands wrapped around me a lifted me up to my feet. I looked up into a pair of green eyes and smiled. 

"Thanks!" There was movement to our side and we glanced over. Millicent had Hermione in a headlock and Hermione was whimpering in pain; both their wands lay forgotten on the floor.

Harry and I leapt forward and pulled Millicent off. It was difficult: She was a lot bigger than we were.

"Dear, dear," said Lockhart, skittering through the crowd, looking at the aftermath of the duels. "Up you go, Finnigan...Careful there, Miss Fawcett...Pinch it hard, it'll stop bleeding in a second, Boot -

"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells," said Lockhart, standing flustered in the midst of the hall. He glanced at Snape, whose black eyes glinted, and looked quickly away. "Let's have a volunteer pair -"

"How about Malfoy and Potter?" said Snape with a twisted smile. I glared at him not liking what he was up to.

"Excellent idea!" said Lockhart, gesturing Harry and Draco into the middle of the hall as the rest of us backed away to give them room.

"Now, Harry," said Lockhart. "When Draco points his wand at you, you do this." He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it. Snape smirked as Lockhart quickly picked it up, saying, "Whoops - my wand is a little overexcited -"

He's going to get Harry killed!

Harry glanced at me and I gave him a reassuring look, but my hands were clenched tightly in fright.

Lockhart cuffed Harry merrily on the shoulder. "Just do what I did, Harry!"

"What, drop my wand?" But Lockhart wasn't listening.

"Three - two - one - go!" he shouted.

Draco raised his wand quickly and bellowed, "Serpensortia!"

The end of his wand exploded. I watched, aghast, as a long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily onto the floor between Harry and Draco, and raised itself, ready to strike. There were screams as the crowd backed swiftly away, clearing the floor.

"Don't move, Potter," said Snape lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. "I'll get rid of it..."

"Allow me!" shouted Lockhart. He brandished his wand at the snake and there was a loud bang; the snake, instead of vanishing, flew ten feet into the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack. Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight toward Justin Finch-Fletchley and raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike.

I wasn't sure what made me do it. I wasn't even aware of deciding to do it. All I knew was that my legs were currently acting on their own. I ran over to Justin's side and shouted at the snake, "Leave him alone!" Just as Harry said the same thing. And miraculously - inexplicably - the snake slumped to the floor, docile as a thick, black garden hose, its eyes now flickering back and forth between the two of us. I felt the fear drain out of me. I knew the snake wouldn't attack anyone now, though how I knew it, I couldn't have explained.

I looked sideways at Justin, grinning, expecting to see Justin looking relieved, or puzzled, or even grateful - but certainly not angry and scared.

"What do you think you're playing at?" he shouted, and before I could say anything, Justin had turned and stormed out of the hall.

Snape stepped forward, waved his wand, and the snake vanished in a small puff of black smoke. Snape, too, was looking at Harry and I in an unexpected way: It was a shrewd and calculating look, and I didn't like it. I was also dimly aware of an ominous muttering all around the walls. Then I felt a tugging on the back of my robes.

"Come on," said Hermione's voice in my ear. "Move - come on -" Hermione's steered me out of the hall, Ron following with Harry in tow. As we went through the doors, the people on either side drew away as though they were frightened of catching something.

I didn't have a clue what was going on, and neither Ron nor Hermione explained anything until they had dragged us all the way up to the empty Gryffindor common room. Then Hermione pushed me into an armchair next to Harry and said, "You're Parselmouths. Why didn't you tell us?"

"I'm a what?" said Harry and I.

"A Parselmouth!" said Ron. "You can talk to snakes!"

"I know," said Harry. "I mean, that's only the second time I've ever done it. I accidentally set a boa constrictor on my cousin Dudley at the zoo once - long story - but it was telling me it had never seen Brazil and I sort of set it free without meaning to - that was before I knew I was a wizard -" I looked at them all in confusion.

"What in Merlin's name are you talking about?"

"So?" said Harry. "I bet loads of people here can do it. We know Kat can, that's two already."

"Oh, no they can't," said Ron. "It's not a very common gift. Harry, Katrina, this is bad."

"What's bad?" said Harry and I, starting to feel quite angry. "What's wrong with everyone? Listen, if we hadn't told that snake not to attack Justin -"

"Oh, that's what you said to it?"

"What d'you mean? You were there - you heard us -"

"I heard you two speaking Parseltongue," said Ron. "Snake language. No wonder Justin panicked, you sounded like you were egging the snake on or something - it was creepy, you know -"

Harry and I gaped at him.

"We spoke a different language? But - I didn't realize - how can I speak a language without knowing I can speak it?" I gasped out.

Ron shook his head. Both he and Hermione were looking at us as though someone had died. I couldn't see what was so terrible.

"D'you want to tell me what's wrong with stopping a massive snake biting off Justin's head?" I practically yelled. "Why in Merlin's name does it matter how we did it?"

"It matters," said Hermione, speaking at last in a hushed voice,

"because being able to talk to snakes was what Salazar Slytherin was famous for. That's why the symbol of Slytherin House is a serpent."

My mouth fell open.

"Exactly," said Ron. "And now the whole school's going to think you two are his great-great-great-great-grandchildren or something -"

"But I'm not," I said, with a panic I couldn't quite explain.

"You'll find that hard to prove," said Hermione. "He lived about a thousand years ago; for all we know, you could be."

I stayed up for hours that night. Through a gap in the curtains around my four-poster I watched snow starting to drift past the window and wondered...

Could I be a descendant of Salazar Slytherin? I didn't know anything about my father's family, after all. And there was that thing the hat had said last year when he'd almost put me in Slytherin! But no, I reasoned. If I really was Slytherin's heir then the hat would have placed me in Slytherin rather than leaving me houseless.

Harry and I would see Justin the next day in Herbology and we could explain that we'd been calling the snake off, not egging it on, which (I thought angrily, pummeling my pillow) any fool should have realized.


	32. Fawkes the Phoenix

Katrina's POV

By next morning, however, the snow that had begun in the night had turned into a blizzard so thick that the last Herbology lesson of the term was canceled: Professor Sprout wanted to fit socks and scarves on the Mandrakes, a tricky operation she would entrust to no one else, now that it was so important for the Mandrakes to grow quickly and revive Mrs. Norris and Colin Creevey.

Harry and I fretted about this next to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, while Ron and Hermione used their time off to play a game of wizard chess.

"For heaven's sake, Harry, Katrina," said Hermione, exasperated, as one of Ron's bishops wrestled her knight off his horse and dragged him off the board. "Go and find Justin if it's so important to you."

So we got up and left through the portrait hole, wondering where Justin might be. Shivering, we walked past classrooms where lessons were taking place, catching snatches of what was happening within. 

Minnie was shouting at someone who, by the sound of it, had turned his friend into a badger. Resisting the urge to take a look, I walked on by, thinking that Justin might be using his free time to catch up on some work, and deciding we should check the library first.

A group of the Hufflepuffs who should have been in Herbology were indeed sitting at the back of the library, but they didn't seem to be working. Between the long lines of high bookshelves, we could see that their heads were close together and they were having what looked like an absorbing conversation. 

I couldn't see whether Justin was among them. We were walking toward them when something of what they were saying met our ears, and we paused to listen, hidden in the Invisibility section.

"No one knows how he survived that attack by You-Know-Who. And last year! Last year they should have been blasted into smithereens. Only really powerful Dark witches and wizards could have survived." I heard Ernie say. He dropped his voice until it was barely more than a whisper, and said, "That's probably why You-Know-Who wanted to kill them in the first place. I heard that he went after Katrina when she was a baby as well. Didn't want another Dark Lord or Lady competing with him. I wonder what other powers they've been hiding?"

I froze at his last words as I realized he was right. I HAD been hiding more powers that I didn't understand yet or have any idea about! Was he right? Was that why Voldemort had gone after my mom and me? Grandfather refused to tell me anything! It was so frustrating! I looked over to Harry and could tell he'd had enough.

Clearing his throat loudly, he stepped out from behind the bookshelves. I followed slowly behind him. If I hadn't been feeling so angry, I would have found the sight that greeted us funny: every one of the Hufflepuffs looked as though they had been Petrified by the sight of us, and the color was draining out of Ernie's face.

"Hello," said Harry. "We're looking for Justin Finch-Fletchley."

The Hufflepuffs' worst fears had clearly been confirmed. They all looked fearfully at Ernie.

I tuned out the conversation as I continued to think about what Ernie had said about me having hidden powers. Then I perked up as I heard him mention me.

"All I saw," said Ernie stubbornly, though he was trembling as he spoke, "was you two speaking Parseltongue and chasing the snake toward Justin."

"I didn't chase it at him!" I said, my voice shaking with anger. "It didn't even touch him!"

"It was a very near miss," said Ernie. "And in case you're getting ideas," he added hastily, "I might tell you that you can trace my family back through nine generations of witches and warlocks and my blood's as pure as anyone's, so -"

"I don't care what sort of blood you've got!" I said fiercely.

"Why would we want to attack Muggle-borns?"

"I've heard you two hate those Muggles you live with," said Ernie swiftly.

"It's not possible to live with the Dursleys or with Liza and her gang and not hate them," I explained coldly. "I'd like to see you try it." I turned on my heel and stormed out of the library, Harry following close behind.

I blundered up the corridor, barely noticing where I was going, I was in such a fury. The result was that we walked into something very large and solid, which knocked us backward onto the floor.

"Oh, hello, Hagrid," I said, looking up. A dead rooster was hanging from one of his massive, gloved hands.

"All righ', Harry? Katrina?" he said, pulling up the balaclava so he could speak. "Why aren't yeh in class?"

"Canceled," said Harry, reaching down and helping me up. "What're you doing in here?"

Hagrid held up the limp rooster. "Second one killed this term," he explained. "It's either foxes or a Blood-Suckin' Bugbear, an' I need the headmaster's permission ter put a charm around the hen coop."

He peered more closely at Harry and I from under his thick, snow-flecked eyebrows.

"Yeh sure yeh're all righ'? Yeh look all hot an' bothered -" neither of us could bring ourselves to repeat what Ernie and the rest of the Hufflepuffs had been saying about us.

"It's nothing," Harry said. "We'd better get going, Hagrid, it's Transfiguration next and we've got to pick up our books."

We walked off, our minds still full of what Ernie had said.

I stamped up the stairs and turned along another corridor, which was particularly dark.

We were halfway down the passage when I tripped headlong over something lying on the floor.

I turned to squint at what I'd fallen over and felt as though my stomach had dissolved. Justin Finch-Fletchley was lying on the floor, rigid and cold, a look of shock frozen on his face, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. And that wasn't all. Next to him was another figure, the strangest sight I had ever seen.

It was Nearly Headless Nick, no longer pearly-white and transparent, but black and smoky, floating immobile and horizontal, six inches off the floor. 

Harry leaned down and helped me to my feet for the second time, his breathing fast and shallow. We looked wildly up and down the deserted corridor and saw a line of spiders scuttling as fast as they could away from the bodies. The only sounds were the muffled voices of teachers from the classes on either side.

We could run, and no one would ever know we had been there.

But we couldn't just leave them lying here...

As we stood there, panicking, a door right next to us opened with a bang. Peeves the Poltergeist came shooting out.

He zoomed over us cackling as he knocked Harry's glasses askew. "What's Potter and Katrina up to? Why are they lurking -" Peeves stopped, halfway through a midair somersault. Upside down, he spotted Justin and Nearly Headless Nick. He flipped the right way up, filled his lungs and, before we could stop him, screamed, "ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!"

Crash - crash - crash - door after door flew open along the corridor and people flooded out. For several long minutes, there was a scene of such confusion that Justin was in danger of being squashed and people kept standing in Nearly Headless Nick. Harry and I found ourselves pinned against the wall as the teachers shouted for quiet. 

Minnie came running, followed by her own class, one of whom still had black-and-white-striped hair. She used her wand to set off a loud bang, which restored silence, and ordered everyone back into their classes. No sooner had the scene cleared somewhat than Ernie the Hufflepuff arrived, panting, on the scene.

"Caught in the act!" Ernie yelled, his face stark white, pointing his finger dramatically at Harry and I.

"That will do, Macmillan!" said Minnie sharply.

Peeves was bobbing overhead, now grinning wickedly, surveying the scene; Peeves always loved chaos. 

Justin was carried up to the hospital wing by Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department, but nobody seemed to know what to do for Nearly Headless Nick. In the end, Minnie conjured a large fan out of thin air, which she gave to Ernie with instructions to waft Nearly Headless Nick up the stairs. This Ernie did, fanning Nick along like a silent black hovercraft. 

This left Harry and I alone with Minnie. 

"This way, Potter, Katrina," she said.

"Professor," we said at once, "We swear we didn't -"

"This is out of my hands," said Minnie curtly.

We marched in silence around a corner and she stopped before a large and extremely ugly stone gargoyle.

"Lemon drop!" she said. This was evidently a password, because the gargoyle sprang suddenly to life and hopped aside as the wall behind him split in two. Even full of dread for what was coming, I couldn't fail to be amazed. Behind the wall was a spiral staircase that was moving smoothly upward, like an escalator. 

As we stepped onto it, I heard the wall thud closed behind us. We rose upward in circles, higher and higher, until at last, slightly dizzy, I saw a gleaming oak door ahead, with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin.

I knew now where we were being taken. This must be where grandfather lived. We stepped off the stone staircase at the top, and Minnie rapped on the door. It opened silently and we entered. Minnie told us to wait before leaving us alone.

I looked around. One thing was certain: of all the teachers' offices I had visited so far this year, grandfather's was by far the most interesting. If I hadn't been scared out of my wits that were about to be thrown out of school, I would have been very pleased to have a chance to look around it.

A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. There was also an enormous, claw-footed desk, and, sitting on a shelf behind it, a shabby, tattered wizard's hat - the Sorting hat.

Harry walked over to the hat but I looked away. I wanted nothing to do with that stupid hat! My eyes were drawn to a golden perch behind the door where a decrepit-looking bird was fluffing it's feathers. I strode over to it and our eyes met. It was old and looked sickly but there was still a certain beauty to it.

I stared into a set of firey-orange eyes that seemed to reach into my soul. I felt warmth wrap around me as my worries disappeared. But then the bird started making a strangled sound before bursting into flames. I gasped and my heart leapt. Had that been my fault! I thought I was getting more control of my powers but maybe not! The last thing I needed was to have killed grandfather's bird!

Just as I thought this, Dumbledore came in, looking very somber.

"Professor," Harry gasped. "Your bird -I couldn't do anything - he just caught fire -" I nodded still staring at the pile of ash unbelievingly.

"I-I didn't mean to -" I started to say.

To my astonishment, grandfather smiled at us. "About time, too," he said. "He's been looking dreadful for days; I've been telling him to get a move on."

He chuckled at the stunned look on our faces.

"Fawkes is a phoenix. Phoenixes burst into flame when it is time for them to die and are reborn from the ashes. Watch him..."

I looked down in time to see a tiny, wrinkled, newborn bird poke its head out of the ashes. It was adorable! I carefully stretched out a finger and stroked it's feathers as lightly as I could. They felt incredibly soft against my skin.

"It's a shame you had to see him on a Burning Day," said Dumbledore, seating himself behind his desk. "He's really very handsome most of the time, wonderful red and gold plumage. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, their tears have healing powers, and they make highly faithful pets."

In the shock of Fawkes catching fire, I had forgotten what we were here for, but it all came back to me as grandfather settled himself in the high chair behind the desk and fixed us with his penetrating, light-blue stare.

Before Dumbledore could speak another word, however, the door of the office flew open with an almighty bang and Hagrid burst in, a wild look in his eyes, the dead rooster still swinging from his hand.

"It wasn' Harry, nor Katrina, Professor Dumbledore!" said Hagrid urgently. "I  
was talkin' ter em seconds before that kid was found, they never had time, sir -"

Grandfather tried to say something, but Hagrid went ranting on, waving the rooster around in his agitation, sending feathers everywhere.

"- it can't've bin em, I'll swear it in front o' the Ministry o' Magic if I have to -"

"Hagrid, I -"

"- yeh've got it all wrong, sir, I know they'd never -"

"Hagrid!" said Dumbledore loudly. "I do not think that Harry or Katrina attacked those people."

"Oh," said Hagrid, the rooster falling limply at his side. "Right. I'll wait outside then, Headmaster." And he stomped out looking embarrassed.

"You don't think it was us, Professor?" Harry said as I looked hopefully at my grandfather.

Dumbledore brushed rooster feathers off his desk.

"No, Harry, Kat dear, I don't," said Dumbledore, though his face was somber again. "But I still want to talk to you two."

I waited nervously while Grandfather considered us, the tips of his long fingers together.

"I must ask you two, whether there is anything you'd like to tell me," he said gently. "Anything at all."

I didn't know what to say. I thought of my fire power that apparently consisted of wind control as well, I thought of the disembodied voice I had heard, and remembered what Ron had said: "Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world." I thought, too, about what everyone was saying about Harry and I and my dread that I was somehow connected to Salazar Slytherin...

"No," said Harry. "There isn't anything, Professor...

Grandfather shifted his eyes from Harry to me.

"No grandfather, nothing..." I mumbled, looking down at the carpet.

He nodded his head and told us that we could leave. 

Harry and I walked in silence on our way to Transfiguration class, both of us thinking over what had just happened.


	33. The Polyjuice Potion

Katrina's POV

The double attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick turned what had hitherto been nervousness into real panic. Curiously, it was Nearly Headless Nick's fate that seemed to worry people most. What could possibly do that to a ghost? What terrible power could harm someone who was already dead? There was almost a stampede to book seats on the Hogwarts Express so that students could go home for Christmas.

Crabbe and Goyle, who always did whatever Draco did, had signed up to stay over the holidays, too. 

But I was glad that most people were leaving. I was getting tired of people skirting around me in the corridors, as though I were about to sprout fangs or spit poison; tired of all the muttering, pointing, and hissing as I passed. I knew Harry felt the same - his face practically screemed his annoyance.

Fred and George, however, found all this very funny. They went out of their way to march ahead of Harry and I down the corridors, shouting, "Make way for the Heirs of Slytherin, seriously evil witch and wizard coming through..." 

"Princess of Slytherin, coming through, make way, make way!" 

Percy was deeply disapproving of this behavior.

"It is not a laughing matter," he said coldly.

"Oh, get out of the way, Percy," said Fred. "Harry and Katrina are in a hurry."

"Yeah, they're off to the Chamber of Secrets for a cup of tea with their fanged servant," said George, chortling. Ginny didn't find it amusing either.

"Oh, don't," she wailed every time Fred asked Harry and I loudly who we were planning to attack next, or when George pretended to ward us off with a large clove of garlic when we met.

I didn't mind; it made me feel better that Fred and George, at least, thought the idea of me being Slytherin's heir was quite ludicrous. But their antics seemed to be aggravating Draco, who looked increasingly sour each time he saw them at it.

"It's because he's bursting to say it's really him," said Ron knowingly. "You know how he hates anyone beating him at anything, and you're getting all the credit for his dirty work." 

"How many times do I have to tell you it's not him! I know you guys are still planning to use that PolyJuice potion! It's not going to get you anywhere!" I burst out angrily. They just ignored me though. 

********************************************

At last the term ended, and a silence deep as the snow on the grounds descended on the castle. I found it peaceful, rather than gloomy, enjoying the fact that the castle was left relatively empty and I had free reign to go wherever I wanted without getting stared at.

Christmas morning dawned, cold and white. Harry and Ron, the only ones left in their dormitory, were woken very early by Hermione and I when we burst in, fully dressed and carrying presents for them both.

"Wake up," I shouted loudly, pulling back the curtains at the window.

"Hermione, Kat - you're not supposed to be in here -" said Ron, shielding his eyes against the light.

"Merry Christmas to you, too," said Hermione, throwing him his present. "I've been up for nearly an hour, adding more lacewings to the potion. It's ready." Harry sat up, suddenly wide awake. I glanced at Hermione's as I heard the news.

"If we're going to do it, I say it should be tonight." I looked at them with narrowed eyes. But it was Christmas so I didn't want things to be awkward. We exchanged gifts happily. When I got to Harry's, I looked at him not sure if he was serious. 

"For good luck," he said grinning.

I looked at the beautiful silver snake charm and burst out laughing. I held my wrist up and he attached it to the charm bracelet he had given me last year, both of us chuckling.

 

********************************************

The Great Hall looked magnificent. Not only were there a dozen frost-covered Christmas trees and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe crisscrossing the ceiling, but enchanted snow was falling, warm and dry, from the ceiling. 

Grandfather led us in a few of his favorite carols, Hagrid booming more and more loudly with every goblet of eggnog he consumed. Percy, who hadn't noticed that Fred had bewitched his prefect badge so that it now read "Pinhead," kept asking us all what we were sniggering at. 

Harry and Ron had barely finished their third helpings of Christmas pudding when I saw Hermione usher them out of the hall to finalize their plans for the evening. I thought hard for a moment before deciding to follow them anyways.

Harry's POV

"We still need a bit of the people you're changing into," said Hermione. "And obviously, it'll be best if you can get something of Crabbe's and Goyle's; they're Malfoy's best friends, he'll tell them anything. And we also need to make sure the real Crabbe and Goyle can't burst in on us while we're interrogating him.

"I've got it all worked out," she went on smoothly, ignoring our stupefied faces. She held up two plump chocolate cakes. "I've filled these with a simple Sleeping Draught. All you have to do is make sure Crabbe and Goyle find them. Once they're asleep, pull out a few of their hairs and hide them in a broom closet." Ron and I looked incredulously at each other.

"Hermione, I don't think -"

"That could go seriously wrong -"

But Hermione had a steely glint in her eye not unlike the one Professor McGonagall sometimes had.

"The potion will be useless without Crabbe's and Goyle's hair," she said sternly. "You do want to investigate Malfoy, don't you?"

"Oh, all right, all right," I said. "But what about you? Whose hair are you ripping out?"

"I've already got mine!" said Hermione brightly, pulling a tiny bottle out of her pocket and showing us the single hair inside it.

"Remember Millicent Bulstrode wrestling with me at the Dueling Club? She left this on my robes when she was trying to strangle me! I'll just have to tell the Slytherins I've decided to come back."

When Hermione had bustled off to check on the Polyjuice Potion again, Ron turned to me with a doom-laden expression.

"Have you ever heard of a plan where so many things could go wrong?" 

But to our utter amazement, stage one of the operation went just as smoothly as Hermione had said. We were lurking in the deserted entrance hall after Christmas tea, waiting for Crabbe and Goyle who had remained alone at the Slytherin table, when Kat found us. 

She glared at us with her eyes narrowed but hid behind a pillar with us. She even levitated the cakes to a perfect height when Crabbe and Goyle walked by so they would spot them. 

"How thick can you get?" Ron whispered ecstatically as Crabbe gleefully pointed out the cakes to Goyle and grabbed them. Grinning stupidly, they stuffed the cakes whole into their large mouths. Then, without the smallest change of expression, they both keeled over backward onto the floor.

"So, Kat, what made you decide to change your mind and help us?" I asked as the three of us dragged the bodies into the nearest closet and then yanked some hair from their heads. We also stole their shoes, because our own were far too small for Crabbe-and Goyle-size feet. 

"Nothing, I just realized the faster I helped you finish your stupid plan, the faster you'd realize that Draco is NOT the Heir of Slytherin and the quicker we could start hunting for the real culprit." I shook my head at her but all the same, I was glad that she was helping in her own way. I hadn't liked having to keep everything from her.

We ran back to the bathroom. Hermione?" Ron inquired as he knocked on the stall. We heard the scrape of the lock and Hermione emerged, shiny-faced and looking anxious. Behind her we heard the gloop gloop of the bubbling, glutinous potion. Three glass tumblers stood ready on the toilet seat.

"Did you get them?" Hermione asked breathlessly. I showed her Goyle's hair. "Good. And I sneaked these spare robes out of the laundry," Hermione said, holding up a small sack. "You'll need bigger sizes once you're Crabbe and Goyle." She finally realized that Kat had joined us. "Kat! Hey! I'm so happy you decided to help out!"

"I'm not exactly 'helping out', Hermione! I'm just here to make sure you guys don't get in trouble! That and to say 'I told you so' when it turns out it isn't Draco!" She said sticking her tongue out at us.

The four of us stared into the cauldron. Close up, the potion looked like thick, dark mud, bubbling sluggishly.

 

"I'm sure I've done everything right," said Hermione, nervously rereading the splotched page of Moste Potente Potions. "It looks like the book says it should...once we've drunk it, we'll have exactly an hour before we change back into ourselves."

"Now what?" Ron whispered.

"We separate it into three glasses and add the hairs."

Hermione ladled large dollops of the potion into each of the glasses. Then, her hand trembling, she shook Millicent Bulstrode's hair out of its bottle into the first glass.

The potion hissed loudly like a boiling kettle and frothed madly. A second later, it had turned a sick sort of yellow.

"Urgh - essence of Millicent Bulstrode," said Ron, eyeing it with loathing. "Bet it tastes disgusting."

"Add yours, then," said Hermione.

I dropped Goyle's hair into the middle glass and Ron put Crabbe's into the last one. Both glasses hissed and frothed: Goyle's turned the khaki color of a booger, Crabbe's a dark, murky brown.

"Hang on," I said as Ron and Hermione reached for their glasses. "We'd better not all drink them in here...Once we turn into Crabbe and Goyle we won't fit. And Millicent Bulstrode's no pixie."

"Good thinking," said Ron, unlocking the door. "We'll take separate stalls." Careful not to spill a drop of my Polyjuice Potion, I slipped into the middle stall.

"Ready?" I called.

"Ready," came Ron's and Hermione's voices.

"One - two - three -"

Katrina's POV

"This is unbelievable," I said, looking at the two boys with wide eyes. "Unbelievable."

"We'd better get going," Harry said as he banged on Hermione's door.

"C'mon, we need to go -" A high-pitched voice answered him.

"I - I don't think I'm going to come after all. You go on without me."

"Hermione, we know Millicent Bulstrode's ugly, no one's going to know it's you -"

"No - really - I don't think I'll come. You two hurry up, you're wasting time -" Harry looked at Ron, bewildered.

"Hurry up you two! I'll check on Hermione! Go before the potion wears off!" I ushered the boys towards the door and shoved them out.

"Hermione, they're gone! Now will you come out, please?" I begged.

"No!"

"Hermione, need I remind you of last year? There's only one way this is ending. Either you come out or I'm coming in!"

I waited silently for Hermione to decide. Slowly, the door unlocked and she shuffled out with her hands covered over her face.

"Hermione! What's wrong! Look at me! Harry's right! Millicent is ugly but I know it's not really you!" Hermione wailed and slowly lifted her hands from her face. I gasped as I realized what had happened. 

"Oh no! It was a cat hair you used wasn't it!" Hermione nodded forlornly.

"Come on, let's get you to Madam Pomfrey! Hopefully she'll know how to fix this! She never asks too many questions."

"But what about Harry and Ron! We need to wait for them!"

I thought hard and then smiled as I thought of something. I yanked out a piece of parchment from my bag and wrote a note for them that I taped to one of the stalls.

"Now come on! Let's go get you to the hospital wing!"

********************************************

"Well, it wasn't a complete waste of time," Ron panted, as he and Harry burst into the hospital wing and hour or so later. "I know we still haven't found out who's doing the attacks, but I'm going to write to Dad tomorrow and tell him to check under the Malfoys' drawing room." I shook my head at that last point which made no sense, but smiled at the fact they finally seemed to realize that Draco was innocent.

I couldn't wait to say, "I told you so!" to them!


	34. Tom Riddle’s Memory

Harry's POV

Hermione remained in the hospital wing for several weeks. There was a flurry of rumor about her disappearance when the rest of the school arrived back from their Christmas holidays, because of course everyone thought that she had been attacked. 

Ron, Kat, and I went to visit her every evening. When the new term started, we even brought her each day's homework.

"If I'd sprouted whiskers, I'd take a break from work," said Ron, tipping a stack of books onto Hermione's bedside table one evening.

"Don't be silly, Ron, I've got to keep up," said Hermione briskly.

Her spirits were greatly improved by the fact that all the hair had gone from her face and her eyes were turning slowly back to brown.

"I don't suppose you've got any new leads?" she added in a whisper, so that Madam Pomfrey couldn't hear her.

"Nothing," I said gloomily.

"I was so sure it was Malfoy," said Ron, for about the hundredth time.

Kat looked at us pointedly but still had yet to tell us, "I told you so". It was one of the things I loved about her. She didn't brag or make a big deal about being right; as she often was.

"What's that?" asked Ron, pointing to something gold sticking out from under Hermione's pillow.

"Just a get well card," said Hermione hastily, trying to poke it out of sight, but Ron was too quick for her. He pulled it out, flicked it open, and read aloud:

"To Miss Granger, wishing you a speedy recovery, from your concerned teacher, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award." Ron looked up at Hermione, disgusted.

"You sleep with this under your pillow?"

I noticed Kat's face had gone deathly pale at the mention of Professor Lockhart and I looked over at her. I knew she thought he was a complete hoax but this was definitely a different reaction from her.

But Hermione was spared answering by Madam Pomfrey sweeping over with her evening dose of medicine.

Ron, Kat, and I were on our way back to the Gryffindor common room when an angry outburst from the floor above reached our ears.

"That's Filch," I muttered as we hurried up the stairs and paused, out of sight, listening hard.

"You don't think someone else's been attacked?" said Ron tensely.

We poked our heads around the corner. We were once again at the spot where Mrs. Norris had been attacked. A great flood of water stretched over half the corridor, and it looked as though it was still seeping from under the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Now that Filch had stopped shouting, we could hear Myrtle's wails echoing off the bathroom walls.

"Now what's up with her?" said Ron.

"Let's go and see," I said, and holding our robes over our ankles we stepped through the great wash of water to the door bearing its out of order sign, ignored it as always, and entered.

Moaning Myrtle was crying, if possible, louder and harder than ever before. She seemed to be hiding down her usual toilet. 

"What's up, Myrtle?" 

"Who's that?" glugged Myrtle miserably. "Come to throw something else at me?"

I waded across to her stall and said, "Why would I throw something at you?"

"Don't ask me," Myrtle shouted, emerging with a wave of yet more water, which splashed onto the already sopping floor. "Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me..."

"But it can't hurt you if someone throws something at you," said Ron, reasonably. "I mean, it'd just go right through you, wouldn't it?"

He had said the wrong thing. Myrtle puffed herself up and shrieked, "Let's all throw books at Myrtle, because she can't feel it! Ten points if you can get it through her stomach! Fifty points if it goes through her head!"

"Who threw it at you, anyway?" asked Kat.

"I don't know...I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell right through the top of my head," said Myrtle, glaring at them. "It's over there, it got washed out..."

Ron and I looked under the sink where Myrtle was pointing. A small, thin book lay there. It had a shabby black cover and was as wet as everything else in the bathroom. I stepped forward to pick it up, but Ron suddenly flung out an arm to hold him back.

"What?" 

"Are you crazy?" said Ron. "It could be dangerous."

"Dangerous?" I said, laughing. "Come off it, how could it be dangerous?"

"You'd be surprised," said Ron, who was looking apprehensively at the book. "Some of the books the Ministry's confiscated - Dad's told me - there was one that burned your eyes out. And everyone who read Sonnets of a Sorcerer spoke in limericks for the rest of their lives. And some old witch in Bath had a book that you could never stop reading! You just had to wander around with your nose in it, trying to do everything one-handed. And -"

"All right, I've got the point," I said.

The little book lay on the floor, nondescript and soggy.

"Well, we won't find out unless we look at it," I said, ducking around Ron and picking it up off the floor. I saw at once that it was a diary, and the faded year on the cover told me it was fifty years old. I opened it eagerly. On the first page he could just make out the name "T. M. Riddle" in smudged ink.

"Hang on," said Ron, who had approached cautiously and was looking over my shoulder. "I know that name...T. M. Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago."

"How on earth d'you know that?" I said in amazement.

"Because Filch made me polish his shield about fifty times in detention," said Ron resentfully. "That was the one I burped slugs all over. If you'd wiped slime off a name for an hour, you'd remember it, too."

I peeled the wet pages apart. They were completely blank. 

"He never wrote in it," I said, disappointed.

"I wonder why someone wanted to flush it away?" said Ron curiously.

The next thing I knew, the diary was being yanked out of my hands. I looked up to see Kat staring at it with a fury I'd never seen before. "That book is evil!" She cried before throwing it back onto the floor and storming out. Ron and I looked at each other shocked.

"Well, it's not much use to you," said Ron, shrugging his shoulders at Kat's reaction to it. He dropped his voice. "Fifty points if you can get it through Myrtle's nose." I, however, walked over to where it lay, and pocketed it.

********************************************

Hermione left the hospital wing, de-whiskered, tail-less, and fur-free, at the beginning of February. On her first evening back in Gryffindor Tower, I showed her T. M. Riddle's diary and told her the story of how we had found it.

"Oooh, it might have hidden powers," said Hermione enthusiastically, taking the diary and looking at it closely.

"If it has, it's hiding them very well," said Ron. "Maybe it's shy. I don't know why you don't chuck it, Harry."

"I wish I knew why someone did try to chuck it," I said, "I wouldn't mind knowing how Riddle got an award for special services to Hogwarts either."

"Could've been anything," said Ron. "Maybe he got thirty O.W.L.s or saved a teacher from the giant squid. Maybe he murdered Myrtle; that would've done everyone a favor..."

But I could tell from the arrested look on Hermione's face that she was thinking what I was thinking.

"What?" said Ron, looking back and forth between us.

"Oh, Ron, wake up," snapped Hermione. "We know the person who opened the Chamber last time was expelled fifty years ago. We know T. M. Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago. Well, what if Riddle got his special award for catching the Heir of Slytherin? His diary would probably tell us everything - the person who's behind the attacks this time wouldn't want that lying around, would they?"

"That's a brilliant theory, Hermione," said Ron, "with just one tiny little flaw. There's nothing written in his diary."

But Hermione was pulling her wand out of her bag.

"It might be invisible ink!" she whispered. She tapped the diary three times and said, "Aparecium!" Nothing happened. Undaunted, Hermione shoved her hand back into her bag and pulled out what appeared to be a bright red eraser.

"It's a Revealer, I got it in Diagon Alley," she said. She rubbed hard on January first. Nothing happened.

"I'm telling you, there's nothing to find in there," said Ron. "Riddle just got a diary for Christmas and couldn't be bothered filling it in."

I couldn't explain, even to myself, why I didn't just throw Riddle's diary away. The fact was that even though I knew the diary was blank, I kept absentmindedly picking it up and turning the pages, as though it were a story I wanted to finish. And while I was sure I had never heard the name T. M. Riddle before, it still seemed to mean something to me, almost as though Riddle was a friend I'd had when I was very small, and had half-forgotten. But this was absurd. 

Nevertheless, I was determined to find out more about Riddle, so next day at break, I headed for the trophy room to examine Riddle's special award, accompanied by an interested Hermione and a thoroughly unconvinced Ron, who told us he'd seen enough of the trophy room to last him a lifetime.

Riddle's burnished gold shield was tucked away in a corner cabinet. It didn't carry details of why it had been given to him. However, we did find Riddle's name on an old Medal for Magical Merit, and on a list of old Head Boys.

"He sounds like Percy," said Ron, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"Prefect, Head Boy...probably top of every class -"

"You say that like it's a bad thing," said Hermione in a slightly hurt voice.

********************************************

The sun had now begun to shine weakly on Hogwarts again. Inside the castle, the mood had grown more hopeful. Perhaps the monster, whatever it was, was even now settling itself down to hibernate for another fifty years..."

Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff didn't take this cheerful view. He was still convinced that Kat and I were the guilty ones, that we had "given ourselves away" at the Dueling Club. 

Gilderoy Lockhart seemed to think he himself had made the attacks stop. I overheard him telling Professor McGonagall so while the Gryffindors were lining up for Transfiguration. He seemed to have an idea of a way to boost morale. 

I also noticed how his eyes never left Katrina's body. And as for her, she was carefully avoiding his gaze. Had something happened between the two of them? Nah, she would have told me!

Lockhart's idea of a morale-booster became clear at breakfast time on February fourteenth. 

I hadn't had much sleep because of a late-running Quidditch practice the night before, and I hurried down to the Great Hall, slightly late. I thought, for a moment, that I'd walked through the wrong doors.

The walls were all covered with large, lurid pink flowers. Worse still, heart-shaped confetti was falling from the pale blue ceiling. I went over to the Gryffindor table, where Ron was sitting looking sickened, and Hermione seemed to have been overcome with giggles.

"What's going on?" I asked them, sitting down and wiping confetti off my bacon. Ron pointed to the teachers' table, apparently too disgusted to speak. Lockhart, wearing lurid pink robes to match the decorations, was waving for silence. The teachers on either side of him were looking stony-faced. 

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted. 

He was staring straight at Kat as he said this and I saw her duck her head and stuff her mouth full of eggs as she leaned sideways into Neville. Those two had become very chummy lately, and if I were the jealous type then I would be very worried that I was slowly losing my best friend.

********************************************

All day long, the dwarfs kept barging into their classes to deliver valentines, to the annoyance of the teachers, and late that afternoon as the Gryffindors were walking upstairs for Charms, one of the dwarfs caught up with me.

"Oy, you! 'Arry Potter!" shouted a particularly grim-looking dwarf, elbowing people out of the way to get to me.

Hot all over at the thought of being given a valentine in front of a line of first years, which happened to include Ginny Weasley, not to mention Kat, I tried to escape. The dwarf, however, cut his way through the crowd by kicking people's shins, and reached me before I'd gone two paces.

I glanced up to see Kat howling with uncontrollable laughter at the expression on my face. I glared at her and she just stuck her tongue out at me and continued laughing. She had been receiving magical valentines all day and I guess it was a nice change for her to not be the subject for once. I glared at her.

"I've got a musical message to deliver to 'Arry Potter in person," he said, twanging his harp in a threatening sort of way.

"Not here," I hissed, trying to escape.

"Stay still !" grunted the dwarf, grabbing hold of my bag and pulling me back.

"Let me go!" I snarled, tugging. With a loud ripping noise, my bag split in two. My books, wand, parchment, and quill spilled onto the floor and my ink bottle smashed over everything. I scrambled around, trying to pick it all up before the dwarf started singing, causing something of a holdup in the corridor.

"Repairo!" Kat bent down to help me and we started cramming stuff back into my newly fixed bag. 

"What's going on here?" came the cold, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy. I started stuffing everything feverishly into my bag, desperate to get away before Malfoy could hear the musical valentine.

"What's all this commotion?" said another familiar voice as Percy Weasley arrived.

Losing my head, I tried to make a run for it, but the dwarf seized me around the knees and brought me crashing to the floor. I heard the twinkling sound of bells and looked up to see Kat laughing at me again.

"Right," he said, sitting on my ankles. "Here is your singing valentine:

His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,

His hair is as dark as a blackboard.

I wish he was mine, he's really divine,

The hero who conquered the Dark Lord."

I would have given all the gold in Gringotts to evaporate on the spot. Kat was dying with laughter. I frowned at her and tried valiantly to laugh along with everyone else, as I got up, my feet numb from the weight of the dwarf, as Percy Weasley did his best to disperse the crowd, some of whom were crying with mirth.

"Off you go, off you go, the bell rang five minutes ago, off to class, now," he said, shooing some of the younger students away.

"And you, Malfoy -" I glanced over in time to see Malfoy stoop and snatch up something. Leering, he showed it to Crabbe and Goyle, and I realized that he'd got Riddle's diary.

"Give that back," I said quietly.

"Wonder what Potter's written in this?" said Malfoy, who obviously hadn't noticed the year on the cover and thought he had my own diary. A hush fell over the onlookers. Ginny and Kat were both staring from the diary to me, looking terrified.

"You kept it!" Kat hissed in my ear furiously.

"Hand it over, Malfoy," said Percy sternly.

"When I've had a look," said Malfoy, waving the diary tauntingly at me.

Percy said, "As a school prefect -" but I had lost my temper. I pulled out my wand and shouted, "Expelliarmus!" and just as Snape had disarmed Lockhart, so Malfoy found the diary shooting out of his hand into the air. Ron, grinning broadly, caught it.

"Harry!" said Percy loudly. "No magic in the corridors. I'll have to report this, you know!" But I didn't care, I was one-up on Malfoy, and that was worth five points from Gryffindor any day. Malfoy was looking furious, and as Ginny passed him to enter her classroom, he yelled spitefully after her, "I don't think Potter liked your valentine much!"

Ginny covered her face with her hands and ran into class. Snarling, Ron pulled out his wand, too, but I pulled him away. Ron didn't need to spend the whole of Charms belching slugs.

It wasn't until we had reached Professor Flitwick's class that I noticed something rather odd about Riddle's diary. All my other books were drenched in scarlet ink. The diary, however, was as clean as it had been before the ink bottle had smashed all over it.

Kat was too mad at me for keeping that she had refused to sit anywhere near me.

I tried to point this out to Ron, but Ron was having trouble with his wand again; large purple bubbles were blossoming out of the end, and he wasn't much interested in anything else.

Katrina's POV

I sighed in irritation as I sat down and ate lunch that day. All morning I had been receiving stupid Valentines from people I had never even met before. Hermione seemed to find it hilarious but I just got more and more frustrated as the day wore on. 

And then of course Harry got his own. I couldn't stop laughing as he was delivered his singing telegram. And then his bag had split and Draco had revealed the fact that the black haired idiot had kept the vile book! Why did he never listen to me!

I was so angry, that I stormed away and refused to sit near him in Transfiguration class. I was still preoccupied with thoughts of that evil book that I didn't notice where I was going or who was ahead of me in the hallway until it was too late...

"There you are my little Kitty Kat, Happy Valentines Day!"

I froze in my tracks and made to turn around and run back the way I came, but before I could, Lockhart was on me like a snake.

"Where you going, Kitty! We have so much to catch up on!"

What felt like an hour later but was probably only a few minutes, Neville managed to track me down and tear me out of Lockhart's grip. I clung to him tightly as I struggled to wipe my lips off on the material of my cloak. But no matter how hard I tried, I still felt gross. 

********************************************

Harry's POV

I went to bed before anyone else in the dormitory that night. I wanted to examine Riddle's diary again, and knew that Ron thought I was wasting my time.

I sat on my four-poster and flicked through the blank pages, not one of which had a trace of scarlet ink on it. Then I pulled a new bottle out of my bedside cabinet, dipped a quill into it, and dropped a blot onto the first page of the diary. The ink shone brightly on the paper for a second and then, as though it was being sucked into the page, vanished. Excited, I loaded up his quill a second time and wrote, "My name is Harry Potter."

The words shone momentarily on the page and they, too, sank without trace. Then, at last, something happened. Oozing back out of the page, in my very own ink, came words I had never written.

"Hello, Harry Potter. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?" These words, too, faded away, but not before I had started to scribble back.

"Someone tried to flush it down a toilet." I waited eagerly for Riddle's reply.

"Lucky that I recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink. But I always knew that there would be those who would not want this diary read."

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean that this diary holds memories of terrible things. Things that were covered up. Things that happened at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"That's where I am now, I'm at Hogwarts, and horrible stuff's been happening. Do you know anything about the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Of course I know about the Chamber. In my fifth year, the Chamber was opened and the monster attacked several students, finally killing one. I caught the person who'd opened the Chamber and he was expelled. But the headmaster, Professor Dippet, ashamed that such a thing had happened at Hogwarts, forbade me to tell the truth. They gave me a nice, shiny, engraved trophy for my trouble and warned me to keep my mouth shut. But I knew it could happen again. The monster lived on, and the one who had the power to release it was not imprisoned."

"It's happening again now. There have been three attacks and no one seems to know who's behind them. Who was it last time?"

"I can show you, if you like. You don't have to take my word for it. I can take you inside my memory of the night when I caught him."

I hesitated, my quill suspended over the diary. What did Riddle mean? How could I be taken inside somebody else's memory? 

"Let me show you."

I paused for a fraction of a second and then wrote two letters.

"OK."

********************************************

I landed spread-eagled on my four-poster in the Gryffindor dormitory, Riddle's diary lying open on my stomach. Before I had time to regain my breath, the dormitory door opened and Ron came in.

"There you are," he said.

I sat up. I was sweating and shaking.

"What's up?" said Ron, looking at me with concern.

"It was Hagrid, Ron. Hagrid opened the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago."


	35. The Sacking

(Hey everyone! Hope you're liking the story so far! I know these last few chapters have been a little bland but I promise, things will start to pick up soon! Stay in tune for the big reveal at the end!)

Katrina's POV

The next morning, Harry filled me and Hermione in on what the diary had shown him. I frowned, not sure what to think. I knew from past experience that the diary was evil, but at the same time, Tom had been there for me when I needed someone to talk to other than Draco, and he couldnt be all bad! right? Maybe I had misread the situation?

We had always known that Hagrid had an unfortunate liking for large and monstrous creatures. During our first year at Hogwarts he had tried to raise a dragon in his little wooden house, and it would be a long time before we forgot the giant, three-headed dog he'd christened "Fluffy." 

"Do you think we should go and ask Hagrid about it all?" Hermione asked nervously one day.

"That'd be a cheerful visit," said Ron. " 'Hello, Hagrid. Tell us, have you been setting anything mad and hairy loose in the castle lately?' "

In the end, we decided that we would not say anything to Hagrid unless there was another attack, and as more and more days went by with no whisper from the disembodied voice, we became hopeful that we would never need to talk to him about why he had been expelled. 

It was now several months since the last attack and in March several of the Mandrakes threw a loud and raucous party in greenhouse three. This made Professor Sprout very happy.

"The moment they start trying to move into each other's pots, we'll know they're fully mature," she told us. "Then we'll be able to revive those poor people in the hospital wing." 

Us second years were given something new to think about during our Easter holidays. The time had come to choose our subjects for the third year, a matter that Hermione and I, at least, took very seriously.

"It could affect our whole future," Hermione told Harry and Ron as we a poured over lists of new subjects, marking them with checks.

"I just want to give up Potions," said Harry.

"We can't," said Ron gloomily. "We keep all our old subjects, or I'd've ditched Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"But that's very important!" said Hermione, shocked.

"Not the way Lockhart teaches it," said Ron. "I haven't learned anything from him except not to set pixies loose." 

I froze as he mentioned Lockhart. Neville had been helping me do my very best to stay away from the man but classes couldn't be avoided and it was becoming pure torture to have to be in the same room as him. Neville kept trying to convince me to tell Harry but I insisted that he didn't need to know. It would just upset him and I didn't see the point of giving him more to worry about when he already had so many things on his mind!

Neville had been sent letters from all the witches and wizards in his family, all giving him different advice on what to choose. Confused and worried, he sat reading the subject lists with his tongue poking out, asking people whether they thought Arithmancy sounded more difficult than the study of Ancient Runes. 

I did my best to help him decide, as it was one of the few ways that I could thank him for all of his help.

Dean Thomas ended up closing his eyes and jabbing his wand at the list, then picking the subjects it landed on. Hermione and I took nobody's advice but signed up for everything. I was so excited! 

In the end, Harry chose the same new subjects as Ron, I shook my head at this but let it go. It was up to them after all to choose what classes to take next year. Besides classes and Lockhart, I also had Quidditch to worry about. Wood was insisting on team practices every night after dinner, so that I barely had time for anything but Quidditch and homework. 

However, the training sessions were getting better, or at least drier, and the evening before Saturday's match I went up to my dormitory to drop off my broomstick feeling Gryffindor's chances for the Quidditch Cup had never been better.

********************************************

The next morning Harry filled me in over breakfast. Apparently someone had stolen Riddle's diary, but honestly, I wasn't that upset about the news. I thought it was probably for the best. This way, Harry wouldn't be influenced by the evil that I had sensed contained within it!

We were leaving the Great Hall and heading to the Quidditch pitch when we heard it yet again -

"Kill this time...let me rip...tear..."

Harry and I shouted aloud and Ron and Hermione both jumped away from us in alarm.

"The voice!" We said, looking over our shoulders. "We just heard it again - didn't you?"

Ron shook his head, wide-eyed. Hermione, however, clapped a hand to her forehead.

"Harry, Kat, I think I've just understood something! I've got to go to the library!" And she sprinted away, up the stairs.

"What does she understand?" said Harry distractedly, still looking around, trying to tell where the voice had come from.

"Loads more than I do," said Ron, shaking his head.

"But why's she got to go to the library?"

"Because that's what Hermione does," said Ron, shrugging.

"When in doubt, go to the library."

Harry stood, irresolute, trying to catch the voice again, but people were now emerging from the Great Hall behind us, talking loudly, exiting through the front doors on their way to the Quidditch pitch.

"You'd better get moving," said Ron. "It's nearly eleven - the match -"

I dragged Harry behind me down to the Quidditch pitch and into the changing room. After we all changed into our scarlet robes, we walked into the field. As Oliver Wood took off for a warm-up flight around the goal posts; Madam Hooch released the balls. The Hufflepuffs, who played in canary yellow, were standing in a huddle, having a last-minute discussion of tactics.

I was just mounting my broom when Professor McGonagall came half marching, half running across the pitch, carrying an enormous purple megaphone. My heart dropped like a stone. Whatever she had to say, it couldn't be good!

Sure enough, she had cone to announce that the match had been canceled; Oliver was furious. 

Minnie ignored him and continued to shout through her megaphone: "All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!"

Then she lowered the megaphone and walked over to me. Harry landed next to me and stood by my side.

"Katrina, dear. I think you'd better come with me...you too, Potter." I saw Ron detach himself from the complaining crowd; he came running up to us as we set off toward the castle. To Harry's and my surprise, Minnie didn't object.

"Yes, perhaps you'd better come, as well, Weasley..."

"This will be a bit of a shock," said Minnie in a gentle voice as we approached the infirmary. "There has been another attack...another double attack."

My insides did a horrible somersault. Minnie pushed the door open and we entered. Madam Pomfrey was bending over a sixth-year girl with long, curly hair. I recognized her as one of the Ravenclaw prefects. And on the bed next to her was -

 

"Hermione!" I moaned.

Hermione lay utterly still, her eyes open and glassy.

"They were found near the library," said Minnie.

"I don't suppose either of you can explain this? It was on the floor next to them..." She was holding up a small, circular mirror. Harry, Ron, and I shook our heads, both staring at Hermione.

"I will escort you back to Gryffindor Tower," said Minnie heavily. "I need to address the students in any case."

********************************************

"That's two Gryffindors down, not counting a Gryffindor ghost, one Ravenclaw, and one Hufflepuff," said Lee, counting on his fingers after Minnie left the room. "Haven't any of the teachers noticed that the Slytherins are all safe? Isn't it obvious all this stuff's coming from Slytherin? The Heir of Slytherin, the monster of Slytherin - why don't they just chuck all the Slytherins out?" he roared, to nods and scattered applause.

"What're we going to do?" said Ron quietly.

"D'you think they suspect Hagrid?"

"We've got to go and talk to him," said Harry, "I can't believe it's him this time, but if he set the monster loose last time he'll know how to get inside the Chamber of Secrets, and that's a start."

"But Minnie said we've got to stay in our tower unless we're in class -" I started to say.

"I think," said Harry, more quietly still, "it's time to get my dad's old cloak out again."

********************************************

The journey through the dark and deserted castle corridors wasn't enjoyable. Teachers, prefects, and ghosts were marching the corridors in pairs, staring around for any unusual activity. The Invisibility Cloak didn't stop us making any noise, and there was a particularly tense moment when Ron stubbed his toe only yards from the spot where Snape stood standing guard. 

Thankfully, Sev sneezed at almost exactly the moment Ron swore. It was with relief that we reached the oak front doors and eased them open.

It was a clear, starry night. We hurried toward the lit windows of Hagrid's house and pulled off the cloak only when they were right outside his front door. Seconds after we had knocked, Hagrid flung it open. We found ourselves face-to-face with him aiming a crossbow at us. Fang the boarhound barked loudly behind him.

"Oh," he said, lowering the weapon and staring at us.

"What're you three doin' here?"

"What's that for?" said Harry, pointing at the crossbow as we stepped inside.

"Nothin' - nothin' -" Hagrid muttered. "I've bin expectin' - doesn' matter - Sit down - I'll make tea -"

He hardly seemed to know what he was doing. He nearly extinguished the fire, spilling water from the kettle on it, and then smashed the teapot with a nervous jerk of his massive hand.

"Are you okay, Hagrid?" I asked cautiously. "Did you hear about Hermione?"

"Oh, I heard, all righ'," said Hagrid, a slight break in his voice. He kept glancing nervously at the windows. He poured us both large mugs of boiling water (he had forgotten to add tea bags) and was just putting a slab of fruitcake on a plate when there was a loud knock on the door.

Hagrid dropped the fruitcake. Harry, Ron, and I exchanged panic-stricken looks, then threw the Invisibility Cloak back over ourselves and retreated into a corner. Hagrid checked that they were hidden, seized his crossbow, and flung open his door once more.

"Good evening, Hagrid."

It was grandfather! He entered, looking deadly serious, and was followed by a second, very odd-looking man.

"That's Dad's boss!" Ron breathed. "Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic!"

I elbowed Ron hard to make him shut up. I could have swore I saw grandfather glance briefly over at us as Ron had spoken.

"Bad business, Hagrid," said Fudge in a rather clipped tone.

"Very bad business. Had to come. Four attacks on Muggle-borns. Things've gone far enough. Ministry's got to act."

"I never," said Hagrid, looking imploringly at Dumbledore.

"You know I never, Professor Dumbledore, sir -"

"I want it understood, Cornelius, that Hagrid has my full confidence," said grandfather, frowning at Fudge.

"Look at it from my point of view," said Fudge, fidgeting with his bowler. "I'm under a lot of pressure. Got to be seen to be doing something. If it turns out it wasn't Hagrid, he'll be back and no more said. But I've got to take him. Got to. Wouldn't be doing my duty -"

"Take me?" said Hagrid, who was trembling. "Take me where?"

"For a short stretch only," said Fudge, not meeting Hagrid's eyes.

"Not a punishment, Hagrid, more a precaution. If someone else is caught, you'll be let out with a full apology -"

"Not Azkaban?" croaked Hagrid.

Before Fudge could answer, there was another loud rap on the door.

Grandfather answered it. It was Harry's turn for an elbow in the ribs; he'd let out an audible gasp. Are these boys even capable of staying silent?! Geesh! 

Lucius strode into Hagrid's hut, swathed in a long black traveling cloak, smiling a cold and satisfied smile. Fang started to growl.

"Already here, Fudge," he said approvingly. "Good, good..."

"What're you doin' here?" said Hagrid furiously. "Get outta my house!"

"My dear man, please believe me, I have no pleasure at all in being inside your - er - d'you call this a house?" said Lucius Malfoy, sneering as he looked around the small cabin. "I simply called at the school and was told that the headmaster was here."

"And what exactly did you want with me, Lucius?" said grandfather. He spoke politely, but the fire was still blazing in his blue eyes.

"Dreadful thing, Dumbledore," said Malfoy lazily, taking out a long roll of parchment, "but the governors feel it's time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension - you'll find all twelve signatures on it. I'm afraid we feel you're losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now? Two more this afternoon, wasn't it? At this rate, there'll be no Muggle-borns left at Hogwarts, and we all know what an awful loss that would be to the school."

"Dumbledore suspended - no, no - last thing we want just now -" Fudge started to say, looking alarmed.

"The appointment - or suspension - of the headmaster is a matter for the governors, Fudge," said Mr. Malfoy smoothly. "And as Dumbledore has failed to stop these attacks -"

"See here, Malfoy, if Dumbledore can't stop them," said Fudge, whose upper lip was sweating now, "I mean to say, who can?"

"That remains to be seen," said Mr. Malfoy with a nasty smile.

"But as all twelve of us have voted -"

Hagrid leapt to his feet, his shaggy black head grazing the ceiling. I just stood there frozen, looking at Lucius with fury in my eyes. I felt my power rise up and had to use all my will power to force it down. How dare he take away the only family I had!

The man may have been generous enough to let me stay with him over the summer but this was...this was absurd! I don't care if he's your father right now, Draco - I'm gonna kill him!

Knowing Lucius, he had threatened and blackmailed the majority of the other governors before they agreed to suspend my grandfather.

"Yeh can' take Dumbledore!" yelled Hagrid, making Fang the boarhound cower and whimper in his basket. "Take him away, an' the Muggle-borns won' stand a chance! There'll be killin' next!"

"Calm yourself, Hagrid," said grandfather sharply. He looked at Lucius Malfoy.

"If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside -"

"But -" stuttered Fudge.

"No!" growled Hagrid.

"However," said grandfather, speaking very slowly and clearly so that none of us could miss a word, "you will find that I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me. You will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

For a second, I was almost sure grandfather's eyes flickered toward the corner where we stood hidden. How does he always know!

"Admirable sentiments," said Malfoy, bowing. "We shall all miss your - er...highly individual way of running things, Albus, and only hope that your successor will manage to prevent any - ah - killins." 

Harry and Ron had to grab me around the waist to stop me from lunging at Lucius and blowing our cover. Ohhh, Merlin, just give me five minutes alone with that pompous git!

He strode to the cabin door, opened it, and bowed Dumbledore out. Fudge waited for Hagrid to go ahead of him, but Hagrid stood his ground, took a deep breath, and said carefully, "If anyone wanted ter find out some stuff, all they'd have ter do would be ter follow the spiders. That'd lead 'em right! That's all I'm sayin'." Fudge stared at him in amazement.

"All right, I'm comin'," said Hagrid, pulling on his moleskin overcoat. But as he was about to follow Fudge through the door, he stopped again and said loudly, "An' someone'll need ter feed Fang while I'm away." The door banged shut and Ron pulled off the Invisibility Cloak.

"We're in trouble now," he said hoarsely. "No Dumbledore. They might as well close the school tonight. There'll be an attack a day with him gone."

Fang started howling, scratching at the closed door. Harry and Ron looked at me in horror and tried to get me to move, but I was frozen solid. I couldn't believe what had just happened to grandfather. He had been sacked! 

It took a lot of convincing before Harry and Ron could get me to head back towards the castle. While I slept next to Harry on the couch again that night, I couldn't help but toss and turn as my dreams were filled with images of monsters running down the halls killing students right and left.


	36. Another Message on the Wall

Katrina's POV

The following week was a haze for me. I went to class in a state of shock and only barely managed to do my homework. Harry and Ron tried to cheer me up but it wasn't working. They reminded me of Hagrid's advice to follow the spiders but I couldn't care less. I was to worried about my grandfather's fate to care about some stupid spiders!

But they were still on the case and one morning Harry and Ron came into the hall looking quite frazzled. 

"What's wrong with you two!" I burst out. Their strange appearance was enough to bring me out of my daze.

"We followed the spiders last night!" Ron said shuddering in terror at the memory. He was deathly afraid of them.

"You did what! You guys could have been caught! Not to mention seriously injured!" 

"Just listen to what we found out! It wasn't Hagrid who opened the Chamber of Secrets! And we think the entrance is in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom!" I stared at them trying to process the information. 

They explained everything to me and I looked at them in surprise.

"Wow, I missed a LOT didn't I!"

********************************************

We were trying to find a way to sneak into the girl's bathroom the next morning when Ron's sister came up to us.

"I've got to tell you something," Ginny mumbled, carefully not looking at Harry or I.

"What is it?" asked Ron.

Ginny looked as though she couldn't find the right words.

"What is it, Ginny? You can tell us anything." I reminded her.

Ginny opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Harry leaned forward and spoke quietly, so that only Ginny, Ron, and I could hear him.

"Is it something about the Chamber of Secrets? Have you seen something? Someone acting oddly?"

Ginny drew a deep breath and, at that precise moment, Percy Weasley appeared, looking tired and wan.

"If you've finished eating, I'll take that seat, Ginny. I'm starving, I've only just come off patrol duty."

Ginny jumped up as though her chair had just been electrified, gave Percy a fleeting, frightened look, and scampered away. Percy sat down and grabbed a mug from the center of the table.

"Percy!" said Ron angrily. "She was just about to tell us something important!"

********************************************

"Potter! Weasley! What are you doing?" It was Minnie, and her mouth was the thinnest of thin lines. Harry, Ron, and I had managed to sneak away from the teacher leading us to our next class and had been on our way to Myrtle's bathroom to inspect it.

"We were - we were -" Ron stammered. "We were going to - to go and see -"

"Hermione," said Harry. Ron, Minnie, and I all looked at him.

"We haven't seen her for ages, Professor," Harry went on hurriedly, treading on Ron's foot, "and we thought we'd sneak into the hospital wing, you know, and tell her the Mandrakes are nearly ready and, er, not to worry -"

Minnie was still staring at him, and for a moment, I thought she was going to explode, but when she spoke, it was in a strangely croaky voice.

"Of course," she said, I saw a tear glistening in her beady eye. "Of course, I realize this has all been hardest on the friends of those who have been...I quite understand. Yes, of course you three may visit Miss Granger. I will inform Professor Binns where you've gone. Tell Madam Pomfrey I have given my permission."

********************************************

 

"Wonder if she did see the attacker, though?" said Ron, looking sadly at Hermione's rigid face. "Because if he sneaked up on them all, no one'll ever know..."

But Harry and I weren't looking at Hermione's face. We were more interested in her right hand. It lay clenched on top of her blankets, and bending closer, we saw that a piece of paper was scrunched inside her fist.

Making sure that Madam Pomfrey was nowhere near, I pointed this out to Ron.

"Try and get it out," Ron whispered, shifting his chair so that he blocked us from Madam Pomfrey's view.

It was no easy task. Hermione's hand was clamped so tightly around the paper that I was sure I was going to tear it. While Ron kept watch we tugged and twisted, and at last, after several tense minutes, the paper came free.

It was a page torn from a very old library book. Harry smoothed it out eagerly and Ron leaned close to read it, too.

Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it.

And beneath this, a single word had been written, in a hand we recognized as Hermione's. Pipes.

It was as though somebody had just flicked a light on in my brain.

"Harry!" I breathed. "This is it. This is the answer. The monster in the Chamber's a basilisk - a giant serpent! That's why we've been hearing that voice all over the place, and nobody else has heard it. It's because we understand Parseltongue..."

Harry looked up at the beds around him. "The basilisk kills people by looking at them. But no one's died - because no one looked it straight in the eye. Colin saw it through his camera. The basilisk burned up all the film inside it, but Colin just got Petrified. Justin...Justin must've seen the basilisk through Nearly Headless Nick! Nick got the full blast of it, but he couldn't die again...and Hermione and that Ravenclaw prefect were found with a mirror next to them. Hermione had just realized the monster was a basilisk. I bet you anything she warned the first person she met to look around corners with a mirror first! And that girl pulled out her mirror - and -" 

Ron's jaw had dropped. "And Mrs. Norris?" he whispered eagerly.

I could see Harry thinking hard, picturing the scene on the night of Halloween. "The water..." he said slowly. "The flood from Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. I bet you Mrs. Norris only saw the reflection..."

I scanned the page in my hand eagerly. The more I looked at it, the more it made sense.

"...The crowing of the rooster...is fatal to it!" I read aloud. "Hagrid's roosters were killed! The Heir of Slytherin didn't want one anywhere near the castle once the Chamber was opened! Spiders flee before it! It all fits!"

"But how's the basilisk been getting around the place?" said Ron.

"A giant snake...Someone would've seen..."

Harry, however, pointed at the word Hermione had scribbled at the foot of the page.

"Pipes," he said. "Pipes...Ron, Kat, it's been using the plumbing. We've been hearing that voice inside the walls...This means, we can't be the only Parselmouths in the school. The Heir of Slytherin's one, too. That's how he's been controlling the basilisk."

"What're we going to do?" said Ron, whose eyes were flashing.

"Should we go straight to Minnie?"

"Let's go to the staffroom," said Harry, jumping up. "She'll be there in ten minutes. It's nearly break."

********************************************

I was running behind Harry and Ron towards the staff room when I heard a noise come from behind. I stopped and looked around cautiously, my nerves on edge. I backed away slowly as I heard footsteps approaching. 

A shadowy figure turned into the hallway and looked straight at me. I continued to back up but there was no where to go, I had backed up myself I to the wall. 

"Who, who are you?" I whispered as the shadow drew closer and closer.

The figure pointed a wand at me and before I could react, everything went black.

********************************************

Harry's POV

We ran downstairs. Not wanting to be discovered hanging around in another corridor, we went straight into the deserted staffroom. It was a large, paneled room full of dark, wooden chairs.

Ron and I paced around it, too excited to sit down.

"Hey, where did Kat go? She was right behind us!" 

"No idea! Maybe she went back to her room, who knows." We stood around waiting for the teachers to come back after the bell rang. 

But the bell to signal break never came. Instead, echoing through the corridors came Professor McGonagall's voice, magically magnified.

"All students to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staffroom. Immediately, please."

I wheeled around to stare at Ron.

"Not another attack? Not now?"

"What'll we do?" said Ron, aghast. "Go back to the dormitory?"

"No," I said, glancing around. There was an ugly sort of wardrobe to my left, full of the teachers' cloaks. "In here. Let's hear what it's all about. Then we can tell them what we've found out."

We hid ourselves inside it, listening to the rumbling of hundreds of people moving overhead, and the staffroom door banging open. From between the musty folds of the cloaks, we watched the teachers filtering into the room. Some of them were looking puzzled, others downright scared. Then Professor McGonagall arrived.

"It has happened," she told the silent staffroom. "Two students have been taken by the monster. Right into the Chamber itself."

Professor Flitwick let out a squeal. Professor Sprout clapped her hands over her mouth. Snape gripped the back of a chair very hard and said, "How can you be sure?"

"The Heir of Slytherin," said Professor McGonagall, who was very white, "left another message. Right underneath the first one.

'Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever and the child known as Kat is mine now.' "

Professor Flitwick burst into tears.

"Who is it?" said Madam Hooch, who had sunk, weak-kneed, into a chair. "Who is the second student?"

"Ginny Weasley," said Professor McGonagall.

Ron and I slid to the bottom of the wardrobe as our world ended. The Heir of Slytherin had Kat! Merlin's pants! Not again! I couldn't let this happen again. How many times was I going to break my promise of keeping her safe! 

Images of her laying on a cold dungeon floor lifeless and frozen filled my mind and I whimpered as my heart felt like it was shattering into a million pieces. I looked at Ron and saw my pain reflected in his eyes as tears spilled over and onto our cheeks.

(Let me know what you guys thought about the chapter!)


	37. The Chamber of Secrets (Part 2)

Harry's POV

It was probably the worst day of my entire life. Ron, Fred, George, and I sat together in a corner of the Gryffindor common room, unable to say anything to each other. Percy wasn't there. He had gone to send an owl to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, then shut himself up in his dormitory.

No afternoon ever lasted as long as that one, nor had Gryffindor Tower ever been so crowded, yet so quiet. Near sunset, Fred and George went up to bed, unable to sit there any longer.

"She knew something, Harry," said Ron, speaking for the first time since they had entered the wardrobe in the staffroom. "That's why she was taken. It wasn't some stupid thing about Percy at all. She'd found out something about the Chamber of Secrets. That must be why she was -" Ron rubbed his eyes frantically. "I mean, she was a pureblood. There can't be any other reason."

I just nodded my head, pictures of Kat's lifeless body still flashing before my eyes. Why had she been taken? She hadn't known anything more than we had! 

This was the worst I had ever felt. If only there was something we could do. Anything!

"Harry," said Ron. "D'you think there's any chance at all they're not - you know -" I didn't know what to say. I couldn't see how Ginny or Kat could still be alive.

"D'you know what?" said Ron. "I think we should go and see Lockhart. Tell him what we know. He's going to try and get into the Chamber. We can tell him where we think it is, and tell him it's a basilisk in there."

Because I couldn't think of anything else to do, and because I wanted to do doing something, I agreed. The Gryffindors around us were so miserable, and felt so sorry for the Weasleys and myself, that nobody tried to stop us as we got up, crossed the room, and left through the portrait hole.

Darkness was falling as we walked down to Lockhart's office. There seemed to be a lot of activity going on inside it. We could hear scraping, thumps, and hurried footsteps.

I knocked and there was a sudden silence from inside. Then the door opened the tiniest crack and we saw one of Lockhart's eyes peering through it.

"Oh - Mr. Potter - Mr. Weasley -" he said, opening the door a bit wider. "I'm rather busy at the moment - if you would be quick -"

"Professor, we've got some information for you," I said.

"We think it'll help you."

"Er - well - it's not terribly -" The side of Lockhart's face that we could see looked very uncomfortable. "I mean - well - all right -" He opened the door and we entered.

His office had been almost completely stripped. Two large trunks stood open on the floor. Robes, jade-green, lilac, midnight-blue, had been hastily folded into one of them; books were jumbled untidily into the other. The photographs that had covered the walls were now crammed into boxes on the desk.

"Are you going somewhere?" I exclaimed.

"Er, well, yes," said Lockhart, ripping a life-size poster of himself from the back of the door as he spoke and starting to roll it up.

"Urgent call - unavoidable - got to go -"

"What about my sister?" said Ron jerkily.

"What about KAT!" I yelled furiously.

"Well, as to that - most unfortunate -" said Lockhart, avoiding our eyes as he wrenched open a drawer and started emptying the contents into a bag. "No one regrets more than I -"

"You're the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!" I shouted. "You can't go now! Not with all the Dark stuff going on here!"

"Well - I must say - when I took the job -" Lockhart muttered, now piling socks on top of his robes. "nothing in the job description - didn't expect -"

"You mean you're running away?" I said disbelievingly. "After all that stuff you did in your books -"

"Books can be misleading," said Lockhart delicately.

"You wrote them!" 

"My dear boy," said Lockhart, straightening up and frowning at me. "Do use your common sense. My books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think I'd done all those things. No one wants to read about some ugly old Armenian warlock, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He'd look dreadful on the front cover. No dress sense at all. And the witch who banished the Bandon Banshee had a hairy chin. I mean, come on -"

"So you've just been taking credit for what a load of other people have done?" I said incredulously.

"Harry, Harry," said Lockhart, shaking his head impatiently, "it's not nearly as simple as that. There was work involved. I had to track these people down. Ask them exactly how they managed to do what they did. Then I had to put a Memory Charm on them so they wouldn't remember doing it. If there's one thing I pride myself on, it's my Memory Charms. No, it's been a lot of work, Harry. It's not all book signings and publicity photos, you know. You want fame, you have to be prepared for a long hard slog."

He banged the lids of his trunks shut and locked them. "Let's see," he said. "I think that's everything. Yes. Only one thing left."

He pulled out his wand and turned to us. "Awfully sorry, boys, but I'll have to put a Memory Charm on you now. Can't have you blabbing my secrets all over the place. I'd never sell another book -"

I reached my wand just in time. Lockhart had barely raised his, when I bellowed, "Expelliarmus!" Lockhart was blasted backward, falling over his trunk; his wand flew high into the air; Ron caught it, and flung it out of the open window.

"Shouldn't have let Professor Snape teach us that one," I said furiously, kicking Lockhart's trunk aside. Lockhart was looking up at me, feeble once more. I was still pointing my wand at him.

"What d'you want me to do?" said Lockhart weakly. "I don't know where the Chamber of Secrets is. There's nothing I can do."

"You're in luck," I said, forcing Lockhart to his feet at wandpoint. "We think we know where it is. And what's inside it.

Let's go." 

We marched Lockhart out of his office and down the nearest stairs, along the dark corridor where the messages shone on the wall, to the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. I glanced back at Kat's name, written in blood, and my heart sank further into disparity. But we had a job to do.

We sent Lockhart in first. I was pleased to see that he was shaking. Moaning Myrtle was sitting on the tank of the end toilet.

 

"Oh, it's you," she said when she saw me. "What do you want this time?"

"To ask you how you died," I said. Myrtle's whole aspect changed at once. She looked as though she had never been asked such a flattering question.

"Ooooh, it was dreadful," she said with relish. "It happened right in here. I died in this very stall. I remember it so well. I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a boy speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own  
toilet, and then -" Myrtle swelled importantly, her face shining.

"I died."

"How?" 

"No idea," said Myrtle in hushed tones. "I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away..." She looked dreamily at me.

"Where exactly did you see the eyes?" I asked.

"Somewhere there," said Myrtle, pointing vaguely toward the sink in front of her toilet.

Ron and I hurried over to it. Lockhart was standing well back, a look of utter terror on his face.

It looked like an ordinary sink. We examined every inch of it, inside and out, including the pipes below. And then I saw it: Scratched on the side of one of the copper taps was a tiny snake.

 

"That tap's never worked," said Myrtle brightly as I tried to turn it.

"Harry," said Ron. "Say something. Something in Parseltongue."

"But -" I thought hard. The only times I'd ever managed to speak Parseltongue were when I'd been faced with a real snake. I stared hard at the tiny engraving, trying to imagine it was real.

"Open up," I looked at Ron, who shook his head.

"English," he said.

I shook my head and tried to shake the image of Kat out of my mind. I looked back at the snake, willing myself to believe it was alive. If I moved my head, the candlelight made it look as though it were moving.

"Open up," I said.

Except that the words weren't what I heard; a strange hissing had escaped, and at once the tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. Next second, the sink began to move; the sink, in fact, sank, right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed, a pipe wide enough for a man to slide into.

I heard Ron gasp and looked up again. I had made up my mind on what I was going to do. "I'm going down there," I said.

I couldn't not go, not now we had found the entrance to the Chamber, not if there was even the faintest, slimmest, wildest chance that Kat and Ginny might be alive.

"Me too," said Ron. There was a pause.

"Well, you hardly seem to need me," said Lockhart, with a shadow of his old smile. "I'll just -"

He put his hand on the door knob, but Ron and I both pointed our wands at him.

"You can go first," Ron snarled.

White-faced and wandless, Lockhart approached the opening.

"Boys," he said, his voice feeble. "Boys, what good will it do?"

I jabbed him in the back with my wand. Lockhart slid his legs into the pipe.

"I really don't think -" he started to say, but Ron gave him a push, and he slid out of sight. I followed quickly. I lowered myself slowly into the pipe, then let go.

It was like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark slide. I could see more pipes branching off in all directions, but none as large as ours, which twisted and turned, sloping steeply downward, and I knew that I was falling deeper below the school than even the dungeons. Behind me I could hear Ron, thudding slightly at the curves.

And then, just as I had begun to worry about what would happen when I hit the ground, the pipe leveled out, and I shot out of the end with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel large enough to stand in. Lockhart was getting to his feet a little ways away, covered in slime and white as a ghost. I stood aside as Ron came whizzing out of the pipe, too.

"We must be miles under the school," I said, my voice echoing in the black tunnel.

"Under the lake, probably," said Ron, squinting around at the dark, slimy walls.

All three of us turned to stare into the darkness ahead.

"Lumos!" I muttered to my wand and it lit again. "C'mon," I said to Ron and Lockhart, and off we went, out footsteps slapping loudly on the wet floor.

The tunnel was so dark that we could only see a little distance ahead. Out shadows on the wet walls looked monstrous in the wandlight.

"Remember," I said quietly as we walked cautiously forward, "any sign of movement, close your eyes right away..."

But the tunnel was quiet as the grave, and the first unexpected sound we heard was a loud crunch as Ron stepped on what turned out to be a rat's skull. I lowered my wand to look at the floor and saw that it was littered with small animal bones. Trying very hard not to imagine what Kat might look like if we found her, I led the way forward, around a dark bend in the tunnel.

"Harry - there's something up there -" said Ron hoarsely, grabbing my shoulder.

We froze, watching. I could just see the outline of something huge and curved, lying right across the tunnel. It wasn't moving.

"Maybe it's asleep," I breathed, glancing back at the other two. Lockhart's hands were pressed over his eyes. I turned back to look at the thing, my heart beating so fast it hurt.

Very slowly, my eyes as narrow as I could make them and still see, I edged forward, my wand held high.

The light slid over a gigantic snake skin, of a vivid, poisonous green, lying curled and empty across the tunnel floor. The creature that had shed it must have been twenty feet long at least.

"Blimey," said Ron weakly.

There was a sudden movement behind us. Gilderoy Lockhart's knees had given way.

"Get up," said Ron sharply, pointing his wand at Lockhart.

Lockhart got to his feet - then he dived at Ron, knocking him to the ground.

I jumped forward, but too late - Lockhart was straightening up, panting, Ron's wand in his hand and a gleaming smile back on his face.

"The adventure ends here, boys!" he said. "I shall take a bit of this skin back up to the school, tell them I was too late to save the girls, and that you two tragically lost your minds at the sight of their mangled bodies - say good-bye to your memories!"

He raised Ron's Spellotaped wand high over his head and yelled,

"Obliviate!"

The wand exploded with the force of a small bomb. I flung my arms over my head and ran, slipping over the coils of snake skin, out of the way of great chunks of tunnel ceiling that were thundering to the floor. Next moment, I was standing alone, gazing at a solid wall of broken rock.

"Ron!" I shouted. "Are you okay? Ron!"

"I'm here!" came Ron's muffled voice from behind the rockfall. "I'm okay - this git's not, though - he got blasted by the wand -"

There was a dull thud and a loud "ow!" It sounded as though Ron had just kicked Lockhart in the shins.

"What now?" Ron's voice said, sounding desperate. "We can't get through - it'll take ages..."

I looked up at the tunnel ceiling. Huge cracks had appeared in it. I had never tried to break apart anything as large as these rocks by magic, and now didn't seem a good moment to try - what if the whole tunnel caved in?

There was another thud and another "ow!" from behind the rocks. They were wasting time. Kat and Ginny had already been in the Chamber of Secrets for hours...I knew there was only one thing to do.

"Wait there," I called to Ron. "Wait with Lockhart. I'll go on...If I'm not back in an hour..."

There was a very pregnant pause. "I'll try and shift some of this rock," said Ron, who seemed to be trying to keep his voice steady. "So you can - can get back through. And, Harry -"

"See you in a bit," I said, trying to inject some confidence into his shaking voice.

And I set off alone past the giant snake skin. Soon the distant noise of Ron straining to shift the rocks was gone. The tunnel turned and turned again. Every nerve in my body was tingling unpleasantly. I wanted the tunnel to end, yet dreaded what I'd find when it did. And then, at last, as I crept around yet another bend, I saw a solid wall ahead on which two entwined serpents were carved, their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds.

 

I approached, my throat very dry. There was no need to pretend these stone snakes were real; their eyes looked strangely alive.

I could guess what I had to do. I cleared my throat, and the emerald eyes seemed to flicker.

"Open," I said, in a low, faint hiss.

The serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight, and I, shaking from head to foot, walked inside.

********************************************

Katrina's POV

I moaned softly as I struggled to get up. I was lying on a cold hard surface and as I looked around, a strange view met my eyes. I appeared to be in a cold and slimy Chamber and I knew immediately where I must be. 

"Ginny!" I cried out as I saw the younger red-head lying on the floor motionless.

"She won't wake, my child. Her life is draining out and into me." I spun around and stared.

"Tom? Tom Riddle?" I backed up in fright. I blinked as I felt the power radiating off of him. "What do you want from me!"

"I want what I've wanted from the beginning, child. I want you to seize your full potential. Use the power within you! Join me!"

"No!" I cried, shaking my head furiously. "Never!"

"Fine, the hard way it is." Before I could say anything, Tom had pointed his wand at me and I heard him whisper, "Imperio!" before my mind went blissfully blank and I remembered no more.


	38. The Heir of Slytherin

Harry's POV

I was standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place.

My heart beating very fast, I stood listening to the chill silence. Could the basilisk be lurking in a shadowy corner, behind a pillar? And where was Kat and Ginny?

I pulled out my wand and moved forward between the serpentine columns. Every careful footstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls. I kept my eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. 

The hollow eye sockets of the stone snakes seemed to be following me. More than once, with a jolt of the stomach, I thought I saw one stir.

Then, as I drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall.

I had to crane my neck to look up into the giant face above: It was ancient and monkeyish, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. And between the feet, facedown, lay a small, black-robed figure with flaming-red hair.

"Ginny!" I muttered, sprinting to her and dropping to my knees. "Ginny - don't be dead - please don't be dead -" I flung my wand aside, grabbed Ginny's shoulders, and turned her over. Her face was white as marble, and as cold, yet her eyes were closed, so she wasn't Petrified. But then she must be -

"Ginny, please wake up," I muttered desperately, shaking her. Ginny's head lolled hopelessly from side to side.

"She won't wake," said a soft voice.

I jumped and spun around on my knees.

A tall, black-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as though I were looking at him through a misted window. But there was no mistaking him -

"Tom - Tom Riddle?"

Riddle nodded, not taking his eyes off my face.

"What d'you mean, she won't wake?" I said desperately.

"She's not - she's not -?"

"She's still alive," said Riddle. "But only just."

I stared at him. Tom Riddle had been at Hogwarts fifty years ago, yet here he stood, a weird, misty light shining about him, not a day older than sixteen.

"Are you a ghost?" I said uncertainly.

"A memory," said Riddle quietly. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."

He pointed toward the floor near the statue's giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary I had found in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. For a second, I wondered how it had got there - but there were more pressing matters to deal with.

"You've got to help me, Tom," I said, raising Ginny's head again. "We've got to get her out of here. There's a basilisk...and I need to find Kat! She must be here somewhere!"

Riddle didn't move. "She's right here, step forth, my child." I looked up in surprise as Kat walked out from behind Tom. Something looked different about her. I looked closer and realized her eyes were red. 

"What's wrong with her! Why are her eyes red!" I slowly bent to pick up my wand again. But my wand had gone.

"Did you see -?"

I looked up. Riddle was still watching me - twirling my wand between my long fingers.

"Thanks," I said, stretching out my hand for it. A smile curled the corners of Riddle's mouth. He continued to stare at me, twirling the wand idly.

"Listen," I said, urgently, my knees sagging with Ginny's dead weight. "We've got to go! If the basilisk comes -"

"It won't come until it is called," said Riddle calmly.

I lowered Ginny back onto the floor, unable to hold her up any longer.

"What d'you mean?" I said. "Look, give me my wand, I might need it -"

Riddle's smile broadened. "You won't be needing it," he said. I stared at him.

"What d'you mean, I won't be -"

"I've waited a long time for this, Harry Potter," said Riddle. "For the chance to see you. To speak to you."

"Look," I said, losing patience, "I don't think you get it. We're in the Chamber of Secrets. We can talk later -"

"We're going to talk now," said Riddle, still smiling broadly, and he pocketed my wand.

I stared at him. There was something very funny going on here...I stared at Kat looking to her for help but she just stood there with a glazed look in her eyes.

"How did Ginny get like this?" I asked slowly. "And what's wrong with Kat! Why is she just standing there like that!"

"Well, those are interesting questions," said Riddle pleasantly.

"And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger."

"What are you talking about?" 

"The diary," said Riddle. "My diary. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months; ever since Kat decided to toss it out, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes - how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with secondhand robes and books, how" - Riddle's eyes glinted - "how she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her..."

All the time he spoke, Riddle's eyes never left my face. There was an almost hungry look in them.

"It's very boring, having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl," he went on. "But I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me. No one's ever understood me like you, Tom...I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in...It's like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket..."

Riddle laughed, a high, cold laugh that didn't suit him. It made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.

"If I say it myself, Harry, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. A trait it seems my child here has inherited. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted...I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her..."

"What d'you mean?" I said, my mouth had gone very dry.

"Haven't you guessed yet, Harry Potter?" said Riddle softly.

"Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets. She strangled the school roosters and daubed threatening messages on the walls. She set the Serpent of Slytherin on four Mudbloods, and the Squib's cat."

"No," I whispered.

"Yes," said Riddle, calmly. "Of course, she didn't know what she was doing at first. It was very amusing. I wish you could have seen her new diary entries...far more interesting, they became...Dear Tom," he recited, watching my horrified face, "I think I'm losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and I don't know how they got there. Dear Tom, I can't remember what I did on the night of Halloween, but a cat was attacked and I've got paint all down my front. Dear Tom, Percy keeps telling me I'm pale and I'm not myself. I think he suspects me...There was another attack today and I don't know where I was. Tom, what am I going to do? I think I'm going mad...I think I'm the one attacking everyone, Tom!"

My fists were clenched, the nails digging deep into my palms.

"It took a very long time for stupid little Ginny to stop trusting her diary," said Riddle. "But she finally became suspicious and tried to dispose of it. And that's where you came in, Harry. You found it, and I couldn't have been more delighted. Of all the people who could have picked it up, it was you, the very person I was most anxious to meet..."

"And why did you want to meet me?" I said. Anger was coursing through me, and it was an effort to keep my voice steady.

"Well, you see, Ginny and Kat told me all about you, Harry," said Riddle. "Your whole fascinating history." His eyes roved over the lightning scar on my forehead, and their expression grew hungrier.

"I knew I must find out more about you, talk to you, meet you if I could. So I decided to show you my famous capture of that great oaf, Hagrid, to gain your trust -"

"Hagrid's my friend," I said, my voice now shaking. "And you framed him, didn't you? I thought you made a mistake, but -"

Riddle laughed his high laugh again. "It was my word against Hagrid's, Harry. Well, you can imagine how it looked to old Armando Dippet. On the one hand, Tom Riddle, poor but brilliant, parentless but so brave, school prefect, model student...on the other hand, big, blundering Hagrid, in trouble every other week, trying to raise werewolf cubs under his bed, sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest to wrestle trolls...but I admit, even I was surprised how well the plan worked. I thought someone must realize that Hagrid couldn't possibly be the Heir of Slytherin. It had taken me five whole years to find out everything I could about the Chamber of Secrets and discover the secret entrance...as though Hagrid had the brains, or the power!

"Only the Transfiguration teacher, Dumbledore, seemed to think Hagrid was innocent. He persuaded Dippet to keep Hagrid and train him as gamekeeper. Yes, I think Dumbledore might have guessed...Dumbledore never seemed to like me as much as the other teachers did..."

"I bet Dumbledore saw right through you," I said, my teeth gritted.

"Well, he certainly kept an annoyingly close watch on me after Hagrid was expelled," said Riddle carelessly. "I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber again while I was still at school. But I wasn't going to waste those long years I'd spent searching for it. I decided to leave behind a diary, preserving my sixteen-year-old self in its pages, so that one day, with luck, I would be able to lead another in my footsteps, and finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work. I almost did! I was so close to getting Kat to follow in my footsteps but she's too much like her mother. But then my diary fell into Ginny's hands and my plan was set back on track.

"Well, you haven't finished it," I said triumphantly. "No one's died this time, not even the cat. In a few hours the Mandrake Draught will be ready and everyone who was Petrified will be all right again -"

"Haven't I already told you," said Riddle quietly, "that killing Mudbloods doesn't matter to me anymore? For many months now, my new target has been - you."

I stared at him.

"Imagine how angry I was when the next time my diary was opened, it was Ginny who was writing to me, not you or Kat. She saw you with the diary, you see, and panicked. What if you found out how to work it, and I repeated all her secrets to you? What if, even worse, I told you who'd been strangling roosters? So the foolish little brat waited until your dormitory was deserted and stole it back. But I knew what I must do. It was clear to me that you were on the trail of Slytherin's heir. From everything Kat and Ginny had told me about you, I knew you would go to any lengths to solve the mystery -particularly if one of your best friends was attacked. And Ginny had told me the whole school was buzzing because you two could speak Parseltongue...So I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. I forced her to drag Kat down with her along the way. But there isn't much life left in her...She put too much into the diary, into me. Enough to let me leave its pages at last...I have been waiting for you to appear since we arrived here. I knew you'd come. I have many questions for you, Harry Potter."

"Like what?" I spat, fists still clenched.

"Well," said Riddle, smiling pleasantly, "how is it that you - a skinny boy with no extraordinary magical talent - managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you and Kat escape with nothing but scars, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?"

There was an odd red gleam in his hungry eyes now that mirrored the gleam in Kat's cold emotionless ones.

"Why do you care how I escaped?" I said, slowly. "Voldemort was after your time..."

"Voldemort," said Riddle softly, "is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter..." He pulled my wand from his pocket and began to trace it through the air, writing three shimmering words: tom marvolo riddle

Then he waved the wand once, and the letters of his name rearranged themselves: i am lord voldemort

"You see?" he whispered. "It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends only, of course. You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name forever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother's side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch? No, Harry - I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!"

My brain seemed to have jammed. I stared numbly at Riddle, at the orphaned boy who had grown up to murder my own parents, and so many others...At last I forced myself to speak.

"You're not," I said, my quiet voice full of hatred.

"Not what?" snapped Riddle.

"Not the greatest sorcerer in the world," I said, breathing fast. "Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so. Even when you were strong, you didn't dare try and take over at Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school and he still frightens you now, wherever you're hiding these days -"

The smile had gone from Riddle's face, to be replaced by a very ugly look. "Dumbledore's been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!" he hissed.

"He's not as gone as you might think!" I retorted. I was speaking at random, wanting to scare Riddle, wishing rather than believing it to be true -

Riddle opened his mouth, but froze. Music was coming from somewhere. Riddle whirled around to stare down the empty Chamber. The music was growing louder. It was eerie, spine-tingling, unearthly; it lifted the hair on my scalp and made my heart feel as though it was swelling to twice its normal size. Then, as the music reached such a pitch that I felt it vibrating inside my own ribs, flames erupted at the top of the nearest pillar.

A crimson bird the size of a swan had appeared, piping its weird music to the vaulted ceiling. It had a glittering golden tail as long as a peacock's and gleaming golden talons, which were gripping a ragged bundle.

A second later, the bird was flying straight at me. It dropped the ragged thing it was carrying at my feet, then landed heavily on my shoulder. As it folded its great wings, I looked up and saw it had a long, sharp golden beak and a beady black eye.

The bird stopped singing. It sat still and warm next to my cheek, gazing steadily at Riddle.

"That's a phoenix..." said Riddle, staring shrewdly back at it.

"Fawkes?" I breathed, and I felt the bird's golden claws squeeze my shoulder gently.

"And that -" said Riddle, now eyeing the ragged thing that Fawkes had dropped, "that's the old school Sorting Hat -"

So it was. Patched, frayed, and dirty, the hat lay motionless at my feet.

Riddle began to laugh again. He laughed so hard that the dark Chamber rang with it, as though ten Riddles were laughing at once - "This is what Dumbledore sends his defender! A songbird and an old hat! Do you feel brave, Harry Potter? Do you feel safe now?"

I didn't answer. I might not see what use Fawkes or the Sorting Hat were, but I was no longer alone, and I waited for Riddle to stop laughing with my courage mounting.

"To business, Harry," said Riddle, still smiling broadly.

"Twice - in your past, in my future - we have met. And twice I failed to kill you. How did you survive? Tell me everything. The longer you talk," he added softly, "the longer you stay alive."

I was thinking fast, weighing his chances. Riddle had the wand. I, Harry, had Fawkes and the Sorting Hat, neither of which would be much good in a duel. It looked bad, all right...but the longer Riddle stood there, the more life was dwindling out of Ginny...and in the meantime, I noticed suddenly, Riddle's outline was becoming clearer, more solid...If it had to be a fight between me and Riddle, better sooner than later.

"No one knows why you lost your powers when you attacked me and Kat." I said, abruptly. "I don't know myself. But I know why you couldn't kill us. Because our mothers died to save us My common Muggle-born mother," I added, shaking with suppressed rage. "She stopped you killing me. And I've seen the real you, I saw you last year. You're a wreck. You're barely alive. That's where all your power got you. You're in hiding. You're ugly, you're foul -"

Riddle's face contorted. Then he forced it into an awful smile. "So. Your mothers died to save you. Yes, that's a powerful counter charm. I can see now...there is nothing special about you, after all. I wondered, you see. There are strange likenesses between us, after all. Even you must have noticed. Both halfbloods, orphans, raised by Muggles. We even look something alike...but after all, it was merely a lucky chance that saved you from me. That's all I wanted to know."

I stood, tense, waiting for Riddle to raise his wand. But Riddle's twisted smile was widening again.

"Now, Harry, I'm going to teach you a little lesson. Let's match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against famous Harry Potter, and the best weapons Dumbledore can give him. Call forth the beast, my child." He said looking at Kat. Kat's face scrunched up as she struggled against his orders.

"You haven't explained what she has to do with all of this!" I shouted angrily as I saw her face twist in pain.

"Ah yes, my child. My wonderful child -"

"Why do you keep calling her that, she's not your child!"

"Oh, but she is, Harry Potter. She is! Haven't you figured that out by now? When she wrote in my diary, it gave me the chance to see into her mind. The foolish man, Dumbledore, erased her memory of the day she found out I was her father; ended up erasing the first five years of her life accidentally. I hadn't known she existed. I had planned to create an heir when I kidnapped the old fool's daughter all those years ago, I even cast a number of spells to insure a healthy and powerful heir before forcing myself on Elliana Dumbledore, but she was rescued before I got the chance to see my plan to fruition. I never dreamed that she had actually given birth to MY child, I thought it belonged to that foolish lover of hers. But when Kat started writing in my diary, it gave me the chance to look into her memories. I saw what they did to her to keep her away from me! And now I will take back what is mine and get rid of you at the same time! Call forth the beast, my child!" He cried out again and this time Kat had no choice but to follow his orders, the blank stare back in her eyes.

All I could do was stare at her and try to comprehend what Riddle had just said. I couldn't believe it.  
My best friend, the daughter of Voldemort? No way! There had to be a mistake! But then, why was she able to control the beast? For Slytherin's gigantic stone face was moving. 

Horrorstruck, I saw his mouth opening, wider and wider, to make a huge black hole. And something was stirring inside the statue's mouth. Something was slithering up from its depths.

I backed away until I hit the dark Chamber wall, and as I shut my eyes tight I felt Fawkes' wing sweep my cheek as he took flight. 

Something huge hit the stone floor of the Chamber. I felt it shudder - I knew what was happening, I could sense it, could almost see the giant serpent uncoiling itself from Slytherin's mouth.

Then I heard Riddle's hissing voice:

"Kill him."

The basilisk was moving toward me; I could hear its heavy body slithering heavily across the dusty floor. Eyes still tightly shut, I began to run blindly sideways, my hands outstretched, feeling my way - Voldemort was laughing -

There was a loud, explosive spitting sound right above me, and then something heavy hit me so hard that I was smashed into the wall. Waiting for fangs to sink through my body I heard more mad hissing, something thrashing wildly off the pillars -

I couldn't help it - I opened my eyes wide enough to squint at what was going on. The enormous serpent, bright, poisonous green, thick as an oak trunk, had raised itself high in the air and its great blunt head was weaving drunkenly between the pillars. As I trembled, ready to close my eyes if it turned, I saw what had distracted the snake.

Fawkes was soaring around its head, and the basilisk was snapping furiously at him with fangs long and thin as sabers - Fawkes dived. His long golden beak sank out of sight and a sudden shower of dark blood spattered the floor. The snake's tail thrashed, narrowly missing me, and before I could shut my eyes, it turned - I looked straight into its face and saw that its eyes, both its great, bulbous yellow eyes, had been punctured by the phoenix; blood was streaming to the floor, and the snake was spitting in agony.

"NO!" I heard Riddle screaming. "LEAVE THE BIRD! LEAVE THE BIRD! THE BOY IS BEHIND YOU! YOU CAN STILL SMELL HIM! KILL HIM!" The blinded serpent swayed, confused, still deadly. Fawkes was circling its head, piping his eerie song, jabbing here and there at its scaly nose as the blood poured from its ruined eyes.

"Help me, help me," I muttered wildly, "someone - any-one -"

The snake's tail whipped across the floor again. I ducked. Something soft hit my face. The basilisk had swept the Sorting Hat into my arms. I seized it. It was all I had left, my only chance - I rammed it onto my head and threw myself flat onto the floor as the basilisk's tail swung over me again.

The hat contracted, as though an invisible hand was squeezing it very tightly. Something very hard and heavy thudded onto the top of my head, almost knocking me out. I grabbed the top of the hat to pull it off and felt something long and hard beneath it.

A gleaming silver sword had appeared inside the hat, its handle glittering with rubies the size of eggs.

"KILL THE BOY! LEAVE THE BIRD! THE BOY IS BEHIND YOU! SNIFF - SMELL HIM!"

I was on my feet, ready. The basilisk's head was falling, its body coiling around, hitting pillars as it twisted to face me.

The basilisk lunged and I threw my whole weight behind the sword and drove it to the hilt into the roof of the serpent's mouth -

But as warm blood drenched my arms, I felt a searing pain just above my elbow. One long, poisonous fang was sinking deeper and deeper into my arm and it splintered as the basilisk keeled over sideways and fell, twitching, to the floor.

I slid down the wall. I gripped the fang that was spreading poison through my body and wrenched it out of my arm. But I knew it was too late. White-hot pain was spreading slowly and steadily from the wound. Even as I dropped the fang and watched my own blood soaking my robes, my vision went foggy. The Chamber was dissolving in a whirl of dull color.

A patch of scarlet swam past, and I heard a soft clatter of claws beside me. "Fawkes," I said thickly. "You were fantastic, Fawkes..."

I felt the bird lay its beautiful head on the spot where the serpent's fang had pierced me. I could hear echoing footsteps and then a dark shadow moved in front of my vision.

"You're dead, Harry Potter," said Riddle's voice above him. "Dead. Even Dumbledore's bird knows it. Do you see what he's doing, Potter? He's crying."

I blinked. Fawkes's head slid in and out of focus. Thick, pearly tears were trickling down the glossy feathers.

"I'm going to sit here and watch you die, Harry Potter. Take your time. I'm in no hurry."

I felt drowsy. Everything around me seemed to be spinning.

"So ends the famous Harry Potter," said Riddle's distant voice. "Alone in the Chamber of Secrets, forsaken by his friends, defeated at last by the Dark Lord he so unwisely challenged. You'll be back with your dear Mudblood mother soon, Harry...She bought you twelve years of borrowed time...but Lord Voldemort got you in the end, as you knew he must..."

If this is dying, I thought, it's not so bad. Even the pain was leaving...But was this dying? Instead of going black, the Chamber seemed to be coming back into focus. I gave my head a little shake and there was Fawkes, still resting his head on my arm. A pearly patch of tears was shining all around the wound - except that there was no wound -

"Get away, bird," said Riddle's voice suddenly. "Get away from him - I said, get away -" I raised my head. Riddle was pointing my wand at Fawkes; there was a bang like a gun, and Fawkes took flight again in a whirl of gold and scarlet.

"Phoenix tears..." said Riddle quietly, staring at my arm. "Of course...healing powers...I forgot...He looked into my face. "But it makes no difference. In fact, I prefer it this way. Just you and me, Harry Potter...you and me..." He raised the wand -

Then, in a rush of wings, Fawkes had soared back overhead and something fell into my lap - the diary.

For a split second, both me and Riddle,   
wand still raised, stared at it. Then, without thinking, without considering, as though I had meant to do it all along, I seized the basilisk fang on the floor next to me and plunged it straight into the heart of the book.

There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spurted out of the diary in torrents, streaming over my hands, flooding the floor. Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then -

He had gone. My wand fell to the floor with a clatter and there was silence. Silence except for the steady drip drip of ink still oozing from the diary. The basilisk venom had burned a sizzling hole right through it.

Shaking all over, I pulled myself up. My head was spinning as though I'd just traveled miles by Floo powder. Slowly, I gathered together my wand and the Sorting Hat, and, with a huge tug, retrieved the glittering sword from the roof of the basilisk's mouth.

I looked over to where Kat stood.  
She hadn't moved the entire time. But now as I looked at her, the red gleam disappeared. She looked at me in confusion and terror before she collapsed to the ground unconscious. I was about to run over to her when I heard a faint moan from the other end of the Chamber. Ginny was stirring. 

As I hurried toward her, she sat up. Her bemused eyes traveled from the huge form of the dead basilisk, over me in my blood-soaked robes, then to the diary in my hand. She drew a great, shuddering gasp and tears began to pour down her face.

"Harry - oh, Harry - I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I c-couldn't say it in front of Percy - it was me, Harry - but I - I s-swear I d-didn't mean to - R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over - and - how did you kill that - that thing? W-where's Riddle? The last thing I r-remember is him coming out of the diary -"

"It's all right," I said, holding up the diary, and showing Ginny the fang hole, "Riddle's finished. Look! Him and the basilisk. C'mon, Ginny, let's get out of here - help me with Kat!"

Together we lifted Kat's body up and started walking back towards Ron.

"Ron!" I yelled, speeding up. "Ginny's okay! I've got her!" I heard Ron give a strangled cheer, and we turned the next bend to see his eager face staring through the sizable gap he had managed to make in the rockfall.

"Ginny!" Ron thrust an arm through the gap in the rock to pull her through first. "You're alive! I don't believe it! What happened? How - what - where did that bird come from?"

Fawkes had swooped through the gap after Ginny.

"He's Dumbledore's," I said, lifting Lat through and squeezing by afterwards. himself. "I'll explain when we get out of here," I said, with a sideways glance at Ginny, who was crying harder than ever.

"But -"

"Later," I said shortly. I didn't think it was a good idea to tell Ron yet who'd been opening the Chamber, not in front of Ginny, anyway. And I still had no idea what to do with the information on Kat! Where's Lockhart?"

"Back there," said Ron, still looking puzzled but jerking his head up the tunnel toward the pipe. "He's in a bad way. Come and see."

Led by Fawkes, whose wide scarlet wings emitted a soft golden glow in the darkness, we walked all the way back to the mouth of the pipe. Gilderoy Lockhart was sitting there, humming placidly to himself.

"His memory's gone," said Ron. "The Memory Charm backfired. Hit him instead of us. Hasn't got a clue who he is, or where he is, or who we are. I told him to come and wait here. He's a danger to himself."

Lockhart peered good-naturedly up at them all. "Hello," he said. "Odd sort of place, this, isn't it? Do you live here?"

"No," said Ron, raising his eyebrows at me.

I bent down and looked up the long, dark pipe.

"Have you thought how we're going to get back up this?" I said to Ron. Ron shook his head, but Fawkes the phoenix had swooped past me and was now fluttering in front of me, his beady eyes bright in the dark. He was waving his long golden tail feathers. I looked uncertainly at him.

"He looks like he wants you to grab hold..." said Ron, looking perplexed. "But you're much too heavy for a bird to pull up there -"

"Fawkes," I said, "isn't an ordinary bird." I turned quickly to the others. "We've got to hold on to each other. Ginny, grab Ron's hand. Professor Lockhart -"

"He means you," said Ron sharply to Lockhart.

"You hold Ginny's other hand and grab Kat. If you let go of her I will kill you!"

I tucked the sword and the Sorting Hat into my belt, Ron took hold of the back of my robes, and I reached out and took hold of Fawkes's strangely hot tail feathers.

An extraordinary lightness seemed to spread through my whole body and the next second, in a rush of wings, we were flying upward through the pipe. I could hear Lockhart dangling below him, saying, "Amazing! Amazing! This is just like magic!"

The chill air was whipping through my hair, and before I'd stopped enjoying the ride, it was over - all five of us were hitting the wet floor of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and as Lockhart straightened his hat, the sink that hid the pipe was sliding back into place.

Myrtle goggled at us. "You're alive," she said blankly.

"There's no need to sound so disappointed," I said grimly, wiping flecks of blood and slime off my glasses.

"Oh, well...I'd just been thinking...if you had died, you'd have been welcome to share my toilet," said Myrtle, blushing silver.

"Urgh!" said Ron as we left the bathroom for the dark, deserted corridor outside. "Harry! I think Myrtle's grown fond of you! You've got competition, Ginny!"

But tears were still flooding silently down Ginny's face.

"Where now?" said Ron, with an anxious look at Ginny. I pointed. Fawkes was leading the way, glowing gold along the corridor.

We strode after him, and moments later, found ourselves outside Professor McGonagall's office.

I knocked and pushed the door open.

(There it is guys! Let me know what you thought and whether you liked the surprise! Don't tell Kat though! Shhh. She doesn't know yet :p)


	39. More Secrets

Harry's POV

For a moment there was silence as me, Ron, Ginny, and Lockhart (carrying Kat's unconscious body) stood in the doorway, covered in muck and slime and (in my case) blood. Then there was a scream.

"Ginny!"

It was Mrs. Weasley, who had been sitting crying in front of the fire. She leapt to her feet, closely followed by Mr. Weasley, and both of them flung themselves on their daughter.

I, however, was looking past them. Professor Dumbledore was standing by the mantelpiece, beaming, next to Professor McGonagall, who was taking great, steadying gasps, clutching her chest. Fawkes went whooshing past my ear and settled on Dumbledore's shoulder, just as I found myself and Ron being swept into Mrs. Weasley's tight embrace.

"You saved her! You saved her! How did you do it?"

"I think we'd all like to know that," said Professor McGonagall.

Mrs. Weasley let go of me. I hesitated for a moment, then walked over to the desk and laid upon it the Sorting Hat, the ruby-encrusted sword, and what remained of Riddle's diary.

Then I started telling them everything. For nearly a quarter of an hour I spoke into the rapt silence: I told them about Kat and I hearing the disembodied voice, how Hermione had finally realized that we were hearing a basilisk in the pipes; how Ron and I had followed the spiders into the forest, that Aragog had told us where the last victim of the basilisk had died; how I had guessed that Moaning Myrtle had been the victim, and that the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets might be in her bathroom...

"Very well," Professor McGonagall prompted me as I paused, "so you found out where the entrance was - breaking a hundred school rules into pieces along the way, I might add - but how on earth did you all get out of there alive, Potter?"

So I, my voice now growing hoarse from all this talking, told them about Fawkes's timely arrival and about the Sorting Hat giving me the sword. But then I faltered. I had so far avoided mentioning Riddle's diary - or Ginny - or Kat. Ginny was standing with her head against Mrs. Weasley's shoulder, and tears were still coursing silently down her cheeks. What if they expelled her or Kat? I still didn't know what to think about what I had just learned. 

Riddle's diary didn't work anymore...How could we prove it had been he who'd made her do it all?

Instinctively, I looked at Dumbledore, who smiled faintly, the firelight glancing off his half-moon spectacles.

"What interests me most," said Dumbledore gently, "is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, when my sources tell me he is currently in hiding in the forests of Albania."

Relief - warm, sweeping, glorious relief - swept over Harry.

"W-what's that?" said Mr. Weasley in a stunned voice. "You-Know-Who? En-enchant Ginny? But Ginny's not..Ginny hasn't been...has she?"

"It was this diary," I said quickly, picking it up and showing it to Dumbledore. "Riddle wrote it when he was sixteen..."

Dumbledore took the diary from me and peered keenly down his long, crooked nose at its burnt and soggy pages.

"Brilliant," he said softly. "Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen." He turned around to the Weasleys, who were looking utterly bewildered.

"Very few people know that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle. I taught him myself, fifty years ago, at Hogwarts. He disappeared after leaving the school...traveled far and wide...sank so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognizable. Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here."

"But, Ginny," said Mrs. Weasley. "What's our Ginny got to do with - with - him?"

"His d-diary!" Ginny sobbed. "I've b-been writing in it, and he's been w-writing back all year -"

"Ginny!" said Mr. Weasley, flabbergasted. "Haven't I taught you anything? What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain!"

"I d-didn't know," sobbed Ginny. "I found it inside one of the bathroom stalls. I th-thought someone had just left it in there and forgotten about it -"

"Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away, along with Katrina."

Dumbledore interrupted in a firm voice. "This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort." 

He strode over to the door and opened it. "Bed rest and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up," he added, twinkling kindly down at her. "You will find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She's just giving out Mandrake juice - I daresay the basilisk's victims will be waking up any moment."

"So Hermione's okay!" said Ron brightly.

"There has been no lasting harm done, Ginny," said Dumbledore.

Mrs. Weasley led Ginny out, and Mr. Weasley followed, still looking deeply shaken.

"You know, Minerva," Professor Dumbledore said thoughtfully to Professor McGonagall, "I think all this merits a good feast. Might I ask you to go and alert the kitchens?"

"Right," said Professor McGonagall crisply, also moving to the door. "I'll leave you to deal with Potter and Weasley, shall I?"

"Certainly," said Dumbledore. "Before you go to the kitchens, however, can you drop Lat off with Madam Pomfrey?" Professor McGonagall nodded and picked up Kat's motionless body as gently as a mother would and walked out.

She left, and Ron and I gazed uncertainly at Dumbledore. What exactly had Professor McGonagall meant, deal with them? Surely - surely - we weren't about to be punished?

"I seem to remember telling you both that I would have to expel you if you broke any more school rules," said Dumbledore. Ron opened his mouth in horror.

"Which goes to show that the best of us must sometimes eat our words," Dumbledore went on, smiling. "You will both receive Special Awards for Services to the School and - let me see - yes, I think two hundred points apiece for Gryffindor." Ron went as brightly pink as Lockhart's valentine flowers and closed his mouth again.

"But one of us seems to be keeping mightily quiet about his part in this dangerous adventure," Dumbledore added. "Why so modest, Gilderoy?" I gave a start. I had completely forgotten about Lockhart.

I turned and saw that Lockhart was standing in a corner of the room, still wearing his vague smile. When Dumbledore addressed him, Lockhart looked over his shoulder to see who he was talking to.

"Professor Dumbledore," Ron said quickly, "there was an accident down in the Chamber of Secrets. Professor Lockhart -"

"Am I a professor?" said Lockhart in mild surprise. "Goodness. I expect I was hopeless, was I?"

"He tried to do a Memory Charm and the wand backfired," Ron explained quietly to Dumbledore.

"Dear me," said Dumbledore, shaking his head, his long silver mustache quivering. "Impaled upon your own sword, Gilderoy!"

"Sword?" said Lockhart dimly. "Haven't got a sword. That boy has, though." He pointed at me. "He'll lend you one."

"Would you mind taking Professor Lockhart up to the infirmary, too?" Dumbledore said to Ron. "I'd like a few more words with Harry..."

Lockhart ambled out. Ron cast a curious look back at Dumbledore and me as he closed the door. Dumbledore crossed to one of the chairs by the fire.

"Sit down, Harry," he said, and I sat, feeling unaccountably nervous.

"First of all, Harry, I want to thank you," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling again. "You must have shown me real loyalty down in the Chamber. Nothing but that could have called Fawkes to you. Secondly, I would like to thank you for rescuing my goddaughter. She means the world to me."

He stroked the phoenix, which had fluttered down onto his knee. I grinned awkwardly as Dumbledore watched me.

"And so you met Tom Riddle," said Dumbledore thoughtfully. "I imagine he was most interested in you...Suddenly, something that was nagging at me came tumbling out of his mouth.

"Professor Dumbledore...Riddle said some very strange things about Kat. He...he made it sound like he was her father. Is that really true?!"

Dumbledore looked at me sadly and nodded. "Yes, Harry, unfortunately it is. However, she does not know and I would appreciate it if you would help me keep this secret until she is ready to be told. Her mother, my daughter, got caught by Voldemort back when he was still gaining power. He wanted an heir and so he forced himself on her. She didn't tell anyone but me and her partner at the time, who the real father was, it was too dangerous, and still is, for anyone to know who my granddaughter really is. So Harry, your word that you will not tell Katrina who she is until either I tell her or I give you the go ahead?"

I slowly nodded my head, still confused at what this meant for my friendship with Kat. Could I really be friends with my parent's murder's child? As if he read my mind, Dumbledore continued. "Harry, I know you're confused and hurt, but my granddaughter had nothing to do with what happened to your parents and I would ask that you find it in your heart to not treat her any different because of what you have found out about her parentage."

I nodded my head again, still unsure of how I felt. Then something else came to the forefront of my mind.

"Sir, Riddle said I'm like him. Strange likenesses, he said..."

"Did he, now?" said Dumbledore, looking thoughtfully at me from under his thick silver eyebrows. "And what do you think, Harry?"

"I don't think I'm like him!" I said more loudly than I'd intended. "I mean, I'm - I'm in Gryffindor, I'm..."

But I fell silent, a lurking doubt resurfacing in my mind.

"Professor," I started again after a moment. "The Sorting Hat told me I'd - I'd have done well in Slytherin. Everyone thought I was Slytherin's heir for a while...because I can speak Parseltongue..."

"You can speak Parseltongue, Harry," said Dumbledore calmly, "because Lord Voldemort - who is the last remaining descendant of Salazar Slytherin - can speak Parseltongue. Kat, obviously inherited the skill from him and unless I'm much mistaken, he transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar. Not something he intended to do, I'm sure..."

"Voldemort put a bit of himself in me?" I said, thunder-struck.

"It certainly seems so."

"So I should be in Slytherin," Harry said, looking desperately into Dumbledore's face. "The Sorting Hat could see Slytherin's power in me, and it —"

"Put you in Gryffindor," said Dumbledore calmly. "Listen to me, Harry. You happen to have many qualities Salazar Slytherin prized in his hand-picked students. His own very rare gift, Parseltongue - resourcefulness - determination - a certain disregard for rules," he added, his mustache quivering again. "Traits both you and my granddaughter have picked up. Yet the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor. You know why that was. Think."

"It only put me in Gryffindor," I said in a defeated voice, "because I asked not to go in Slytherin..."

"Exactly," said Dumbledore, beaming once more. "Which makes you very different from Tom Riddle. It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities." I sat motionless in my chair, stunned. "If you want proof, Harry, that you belong in Gryffindor, I suggest you look more closely at this."

Dumbledore reached across to Professor McGonagall's desk, picked up the blood-stained silver sword, and handed it to me.

Dully, I turned it over, the rubies blazing in the firelight. And then I saw the name engraved just below the hilt: Godric Gryffindor.

"Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the hat, Harry," said Dumbledore simply.

For a minute, neither of us spoke. Then Dumbledore pulled open one of the drawers in Professor McGonagall's desk and took out a quill and a bottle of ink.

"What you need, Harry, is some food and sleep. I suggest you go down to the feast, while I write to Azkaban - we need our gamekeeper back. And I must draft an advertisement for the Daily Prophet, too," he added thoughtfully. "We'll be needing a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher...Dear me, we do seem to run through them, don't we?"

I got up and crossed to the door. I had just reached for the handle, however, when the door burst open so violently that it bounced back off the wall.

Lucius Malfoy stood there, fury in his face. And cowering behind his legs, heavily wrapped in bandages, was Dobby.

"Good evening, Lucius," said Dumbledore pleasantly.

Mr. Malfoy almost knocked me over as he swept into the room. Dobby went scurrying in after him, crouching at the hem of his cloak, a look of abject terror on his face.

The elf was carrying a stained rag with which he was attempting to finish cleaning Mr. Malfoy's shoes. Apparently Mr. Malfoy had set out in a great hurry, for not only were his shoes half-polished, but his usually sleek hair was disheveled. Ignoring the elf bobbing apologetically around his ankles, he fixed his cold eyes upon Dumbledore.

"So!" he said "You've come back. The governors suspended you, but you still saw fit to return to Hogwarts."

"Well, you see, Lucius," said Dumbledore, smiling serenely, "the other eleven governors contacted me today. It was something like being caught in a hailstorm of owls, to tell the truth. They'd heard that Arthur Weasley's daughter had been killed and wanted me back here at once. They seemed to think I was the best man for the job after all. Very strange tales they told me, too...Several of them seemed to think that you had threatened to curse their families if they didn't agree to suspend me in the first place." Mr. Malfoy went even paler than usual, but his eyes were still slits of fury.

"So - have you stopped the attacks yet?" he sneered. "Have you caught the culprit?"

"We have," said Dumbledore, with a smile.

"Well?" said Mr. Malfoy sharply. "Who is it?"

"The same person as last time, Lucius," said Dumbledore. "But this time, Lord Voldemort was acting through somebody else. By means of this diary." He held up the small black book with the large hole through the center, watching Mr. Malfoy closely. I, however, was watching Dobby.

The elf was doing something very odd. His great eyes fixed meaningfully on me, he kept pointing at the diary, then at Mr. Malfoy, and then hitting himself hard on the head with his fist.

"I see..." said Mr. Malfoy slowly to Dumbledore.

"A clever plan," said Dumbledore in a level voice, still staring Mr. Malfoy straight in the eye. "Because if Harry here" - Mr. Malfoy shot me a swift, sharp look -" and his friend Ron hadn't discovered this book, why - Ginny Weasley might have taken all the blame. No one would ever have been able to prove she hadn't acted of her own free will...and who knows what would have happened to Katrina." Mr. Malfoy said nothing. His face was suddenly masklike.

"Very fortunate the diary was discovered, and Riddle's memories wiped from it. Who knows what the consequences might have been otherwise..."

Mr. Malfoy forced himself to speak. "Very fortunate," he said stiffly.

And still, behind his back, Dobby was pointing, first to the diary, then to Lucius Malfoy, then punching himself in the head.

And I suddenly understood. I nodded at Dobby, and Dobby backed into a corner, now twisting his ears in punishment.

"Don't you want to know how Ginny got hold of that diary, Mr. Malfoy?" I said. Lucius Malfoy rounded on me.

"How should I know how the stupid little girl got hold of it?" he said.

"Because you gave it to her," I said. "Indirectly, you slipped it into Kat's trunk before she left over the summer and she tossed it out for Ginny to find." I saw Mr. Malfoy's white hands clench and unclench.

"Prove it," he hissed.

"Oh, no one will be able to do that," said Dumbledore, smiling at Harry. "Not now that Riddle has vanished from the book. On the other hand, I would advise you, Lucius, not to go giving out any more of Lord Voldemort's old school things, especially to my granddaughter! If any more of them find their way into innocent hands, I think Arthur Weasley, for one, will make sure they are traced back to you..."

Lucius Malfoy stood for a moment, and I distinctly saw his right hand twitch as though he was longing to reach for his wand. Instead, he turned to his house-elf.

"We're going, Dobby!"

He wrenched open the door and as the elf came hurrying up to him, he kicked him right through it. We could hear Dobby squealing with pain all the way along the corridor. I stood for a moment, thinking hard. Then it came to me - 

"Professor Dumbledore," I said hurriedly. "Can I give that diary back to Mr. Malfoy, please?"

"Certainly, Harry," said Dumbledore calmly. "But hurry. The feast, remember..."

I grabbed the diary and dashed out of the office. I could hear Dobby's squeals of pain receding around the corner. Quickly, wondering if this plan could possibly work, I took off one of my shoes, pulled off my slimy, filthy sock, and stuffed the diary into it. Then I ran down the dark corridor.

I caught up with them at the top of the stairs.

"Mr. Malfoy," I gasped, skidding to a halt, "I've got something for you -" And I forced the smelly sock into Lucius Malfoy's hand.

"What the -?"

Mr. Malfoy ripped the sock off the diary, threw it aside, then looked furiously from the ruined book to me.

"You'll meet the same sticky end as your parents one of these days, Harry Potter," he said softly. "They were meddlesome fools, too." He turned to go. "Come, Dobby. I said, come."

But Dobby didn't move. He was holding up my disgusting, slimy sock, and looking at it as though it were a priceless treasure.

"Master has given a sock," said the elf in wonderment. "Master gave it to Dobby."

"What's that?" spat Mr. Malfoy. "What did you say?"

"Got a sock," said Dobby in disbelief. "Master threw it, and Dobby caught it, and Dobby - Dobby is free."

Lucius Malfoy stood frozen, staring at the elf. Then he lunged at me.

"You've lost me my servant, boy!"

But Dobby shouted, "You shall not harm Harry Potter!" There was a loud bang, and Mr. Malfoy was thrown backward.

He crashed down the stairs, three at a time, landing in a crumpled heap on the landing below. He got up, his face livid, and pulled out his wand, but Dobby raised a long, threatening finger.

"You shall go now," he said fiercely, pointing down at Mr. Malfoy. "You shall not touch Harry Potter. You shall go now."

Lucius Malfoy had no choice. With a last, incensed stare at the pair of them, he swung his cloak around him and hurried out of sight.

"Harry Potter freed Dobby!" said the elf shrilly, gazing up at me, moonlight from the nearest window reflected in his orb-like eyes. "Harry Potter set Dobby free!"

"Least I could do, Dobby," I said, grinning. "Just promise never to try and save my life again, or Kat's for that matter."

The elf's ugly brown face split suddenly into a wide, toothy smile.

********************************************

Katrina's POV 

I woke up in the hospital wing. I glanced up and saw grandfather sitting next to my bed. He carefully explained what happened while I was out and I looked at him in confusion. It felt like there was something he wasn't telling me, but I put it aside for later. Madam Pomfrey cleared me and I headed of down to the Great Hall with Hermione.

I had been to several Hogwarts feasts, but never one quite like this. Everybody was in their pajamas, and the celebration lasted all night. I didn't know whether the best part of the night was Justin hurrying over from the Hufflepuff table to wring Harry's and my hands and apologize endlessly for suspecting us, or Hagrid turning up at half past three, cuffing Harry and Ron so hard on the shoulders that they were knocked into their plates of trifle, or his and Ron's four hundred points for Gryffindor securing the House Cup for the second year running, or Professor McGonagall standing up to tell us all that the exams had been canceled as a school treat ("Oh, no!" said Hermione), or Dumbledore announcing that, unfortunately, Professor Lockhart would be unable to return next year, owing to the fact that he needed to go away and get his memory back. Quite a few of the teachers joined in the cheering that greeted this news.

"Shame," said Ron, helping himself to a jam doughnut. "He was starting to grow on me."

The rest of the final term passed in a haze of blazing sunshine. Hogwarts was back to normal with only a few, small differences -

Defense Against the Dark Arts classes were canceled ("but we've had plenty of practice at that anyway," Ron told a disgruntled Hermione) and Lucius Malfoy had been sacked as a school governor. Draco was no longer strutting around the school as though he owned the place. On the contrary, he looked resentful and sulky. On the other hand, Ginny Weasley was perfectly happy again.

I also noticed that Harry was treating me a little differently than before. I couldn't tell what it was but every time he looked at me, there was a strange gleam in his eyes that I couldn't read.

Too soon, it was time for the journey home on the Hogwarts Express. Since I was staying with Snape, I said goodbye to my friends before they left. Then set off with my godfather to his home on Spinner's End (that's the name right? Can't remember at the moment if it's end or lane)

\- there we are folks book 2 is officially complete! Comment your thoughts! Book 3 will be started soon so stay tuned!


	40. A New Pet

Katrina's POV

"Sev, can I pleeeease get it! Pretty please with a cherry on top!" I widened my eyes and stuck out my bottom lip in a puppy dog pout. We had gone into Diagon Alley for the day and had just walked by a window when a small creature had caught my eye. It was a Dragon! But not a normal one, on the plaque next to it there was a note saying that it was a rare kind of breed that only grew to be about 7-10 feet long. I fell in love as soon as I saw the little guy.

I ran into the store and immediately found my way over to the tiny dragon. Ever since my first year when I'd laid eyes on Hagrid's Norwegian Ridgeback, I'd wanted one of my own. I'd thought it would never be possible since dragon's normally grow to such a large size, but this seemed to be the perfect solution!

I looked at Snape pleadingly. He stared into my eyes and after a minute of silence, he caved. 

"Alright fine, you can get him, but you're responsible for taking care of him! I will not let you stick me with the chore of taking care of the fellow!"

"Of course not, Sev! I'll take perfect care of him!" I hopped up and down in excitement and ran over to the store attendant. She smiled as she saw my enthusiasm.

"An excellent choice, young lady!" She told me as she walked around the store, collecting a cage, food, and the other care products that I would need. 

"That will be 300 galleons!" She told Severus. I glanced up at him to double check that he hadn't changed his mind after hearing the expensive price. He smiled at me and handed over a sack of coins without a seconds hesitation. I hugged him and thanked him profusely. He waved it off and we continued down the street with my new friend in tow.

"So what are you going to name him?" He said as he grinned down at me. I paused and glanced at my new dragon. "Umm..." I couldn't think of anything. "How about Drake, for now?" I stared up at Sev to see what he thought. 

"It's a wonderful name. I'm sure he'll love it! Now let's get back home and get him settled in. I sure wasn't expecting to be arriving back with a new pet, but I'm sure we can work our schedule around it!" I smiled up at my godfather. We had just got back to the leaky cauldron, when I saw a large black dog that looked starved. 

I handed Drake over to Sev and walked slowly over to where the black dog sat whimpering with hunger. I looked at the rest of my lunch; a half-eaten burger, and stretched my arm out to the dog. He looked like he could use it. 

The dog looked at me and wagged it's tail happily as it ate the rest of my meal. "I'd take you home with me, but I just got a new pet and I don't think my godfather would appreciate me adding a second one to the mix. I'm sorry! But I hope you manage to find a nice owner who will take care of you!" The dog licked my face and wagged its tail again before dashing off. I skipped back to Sev and we walked through the leaky cauldron and down the street before Sev apparated us back to his house. 

(Hope you guys liked the first little intro into book 3!)


	41. Spinners End

Katrina's POV

We arrived back at Spinner's End and I carried Drake's cage up to the room Sev had picked out for me. It was just your average room, but what I loved most was the nook that had been carved out near the window. It was the perfect spot to read my new course books. While we had been in Diagon Alley earlier, we had decided we might as well pick up my new school supplies as well and I had plenty of new material to absorb.

I gently laid the cage on my bed and set about putting away my new supplies. Once I was finished, I slowly crept back towards the cage and carefully opened it. I didn't want to scare my new pet! 

Drake looked at me, then looked at the open cage door, then back to me. Before I knew what had happened, he had unfurled his wings and soared out of the cage and started flying in circles around the room. Once he had gotten the layout of the land, he floated down to me and curled up in my hands. I stared down at him with a goofy grin plastered on my face. 

He was the cutest thing I had ever seen! I couldn't believe he was mine! I ran down the stairs with the little dragon still curled up in my palm as I raced to find Sev. I finally found him in the dining room, supervising as his house elf; Dolly, set the table.

"Look how cute Drake is, Sev!" I cried as I burst into the room. I frowned, "are we having guests over?" I noticed Dolly was setting the table for three extra people. 

"Yes, actually. We are. I invited the Malfoy's over for dinner. It's high time we put last years foolishness behind us. Now I don't approve of what Lucius did, but that is no reason to avoid hanging out with Draco!"

"I have not been avoiding him! I just -" Sev gave me a knowing look as his eyebrows rose. "Okay, fine! I have been, but so what! That diary was evil and I'm almost positive Lucius knew what it would do! I can't believe he gave it to me!"

"I can't believe it either and I had some choice words to say to Lucius after I found out, but Kat, you will be seeing Draco around all the time at school. It would be easier for everyone involved, if we could put this all behind us. Promise me you'll be on your best behavior tonight and at least give it a chance?"

"Yes, sir." I mumbled grumpily. As if he could sense my mood, Drake shifted in my hand, lifted his head, and turned to glare at my godfather. He looked at the two of us and the corners of his mouth lifted into a smirk.

"You're enjoying this aren't you..." I hissed as he chuckled.

"Yes, I think I am!"

********************************************

"Hello, Narcissa, Draco...Lucius." I ground my teeth together as I forced myself to spit out his name. We glared at each other but Severus motioned them through the door and we broke eye contact.

"What's that, Kat?" Draco said, pointing to my shoulder. I smiled and lifted the sleepy dragon from where he had been perched; in the crook where my neck met my shoulder, and showed him to Draco. 

"His name is Drake! Isn't he adorable! Sev got him for me today in Diagon Alley!" 

"Wow!" Said Draco as he peered at the little dragon still sleeping in the palm of my hand. "But won't you have to keep him here? Once he starts growing, he'll be way to big to stay at Hogwarts! Besides, I thought dragons weren't allowed on the grounds?"

"Well the lady at the store says Drake will only grow to be about 7-10 feet long and Sev said that since it will stay relatively small, it should be fine at Hogwarts. He won't be allowed anywhere but Hagrid's hut for safety reasons until he's older, but I'm sure Hagrid won't mind me coming down to visit whenever I can! Isn't it great!"

I rambled on and on about how excited I was while Draco just smiled and nodded along. He'd gotten used to my incessant rambling last summer and knew there was no stopping me once I started. We all sat down at the dinner table as Dolly laid out the first course.

I sat facing Lucius and we stared at each other for a long while, before my attention was drawn back to Drake. He'd finally woken up. Draco and I spent the rest of the time at the dinner table feeding Drake small pieces of meat that Dolly had set aside for him. I beamed as Drake gobbled up the food from my hands while being cautious so as not to accidentally bite my fingers.

After dinner, we retired to the living room and Draco and I tossed paper balls into the air for Drake to ignite. We started a competition to see who could do the coolest trick shots while Sev and Draco's parents sat on the couch discussing who knows what. I won, of course!

When it was time for bed, we all said goodbye to one another; I glared one last time at Lucius, then made my way up to my room. I grabbed one of my throw pillows and placed it on my bedside table. Lifting Drake off my shoulder, I watched as he ruffled his scales and chased his tail in circles a few times before settling his deep sea-green body into a ball in the center of the pillow. 

I smiled lazily and curled up in my own bed for the night as I continued to watch him until the calm of sleep finally washed over me.

********************************************

I spent the last few weeks before September 1st playing with Drake and my godfather as often as I could. About two days after Draco had come over, Sev had read something in the Daily Prophet that had seemed to set him off. I asked him what was wrong but he refused to tell me. 

From what I managed to read from the Prophet before Sev had snatched it out of sight, some man named Sirius Black; who had apparently escaped from Azkaban prison a week or so ago, had been spotted in a small village near Diagon Alley, not too far from Spinner's End. 

After that, Sev wouldn't allow me outside of the house unless he was accompanying me. I was stuck all alone with Dolly and Drake while he left periodically for long periods of time to meet with 'old acquaintances' of his. He still managed to come home and play a few rounds of wizards chess with me before bed every night, but I still felt like I barely got to see him. 

He said what he was doing was necessary and important; that he was helping in the search for an escaped convict as well as working with grandfather to boost security at Hogwarts, but he wouldn't explain why it was necessary. It was seriously frustrating! But I knew better than to pester Sev about it. He hadn't gotten his reputation by being easily approachable!

So instead of sulking and dwelling on being stuck inside, I spent my time bonding with Drake. There was so much about him that fascinated me! One day he would be the same shade of green as when I'd first gotten him, and the next, he would flash a brilliant orange or fade to a faint pinkish shade. I wasn't sure if I was right, but I think his color reflected his emotions. 

He also reminded me of Fawkes, grandfather's Phoenix. He seemed able to carry heavier loads then appearances would imply and he was crazy fast. I would get dizzy watching him zoom in circles around me. By the time September 1st had rolled around, he was half a foot long and barely fit into the palm of my hand anymore. 

Sev helped me pack up my things and dropped me off at Platform 9 3/4 before he apparated to Hogsmead and made his own way back to the school. Draco helped me lift my trunks onto the train and went off in search of Crabbe and Goyle while I searched for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. I found them sitting in the back of the train in the last compartment. There was an older travel-worn man asleep on one side, who Hermione said must be a new teacher. 

I glanced at him curiously but he was fast asleep and I quickly got bored of watching him. I turned to ask Harry how his summer had gone when I realized he was already staring at me with an odd expression on his face. I tilted my head in confusion but it was quickly replaced with a different look as he told us all about blowing up his aunt. I figured I must have been mistaken and burst out laughing as Harry reenacted the scene.

My face turned serious afterwards as he retold what he had overheard while staying at the leaky cauldron though.

"So...so Sirius Black escaped to come after you!" I gasped as I heard the news. No wonder Sev and grandfather had been so focused on amping up the security at Hogwarts!

"Yeah, that's what Ron's dad said. Though it seemed like there was someone else who he was after besides me, but I didn't catch a name..."

We looked around curiously as the train suddenly began to slow down. Surely we hadn't already arrived!

(Comment your thoughts! Never sure if these original chapters turn out as great as they were in my head! Lol)


	42. Dementors

Katrina's POV

"What's going on?" said Ron's voice from beside Harry.

"Ouch!" gasped Hermione. "Ron, that was my foot!"

I felt my way back to my seat.

"D'you think we've broken down?"

"Dunno..."

There was a squeaking sound, and I saw the dim black outline of Ron, wiping a patch clean on the window and peering out.

"There's something moving out there," Ron said. "I think people are coming aboard..."

The compartment door suddenly opened and someone fell painfully over my legs.

"Sorry-d'you know what's going on?-Ouch-sorry-"

"Hullo, Neville," I said, feeling around in the dark and pulling Neville up by his cloak.

"Kat? Is that you? What's happening?"

"No idea-sit down-"

There was a loud hissing and a yelp of pain; Neville had tried to sit on Crookshanks.

"I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on," came Hermione's voice. I felt her pass me, heard the door slide open again, and then a thud and two loud squeals of pain.

"Who's that?"

"Who's that?"

"Ginny?"

"Hermione?"

"What are you doing?"

"I was looking for Ron-"

"Come in and sit down-"

"Not here!" I heard Harry gasp hurriedly. "I'm here!"

"Ouch!" said Neville.

"Quiet!" said a hoarse voice suddenly.

Professor Lupin appeared to have woken up at last. I could hear movements in his corner. None of us spoke.

There was a soft, crackling noise, and a shivering light filled the compartment. Professor Lupin appeared to be holding a handful of flames. They illuminated his tired, gray face, but his eyes looked alert and wary.

"Stay where you are," he said in the same hoarse voice, and he got slowly to his feet with his handful of fire held out in front of him.

But the door slid slowly open before Lupin could reach it.

Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Lupin's hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. My eyes darted downward, and what I saw made my stomach contract. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, grayish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water...

But it was visible only for a split second. As though the creature beneath the cloak sensed my gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of its black cloak.

And then the thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings.

An intense cold swept over my body. I felt my breath catch in my chest. The cold went deeper than my skin. It was inside my chest, it was inside my very heart...

My eyes rolled up into my head. I couldn't see. I was drowning in cold. There was a rushing in my ears as though of water. I was being dragged downward, the roaring growing louder...

And then, from far away, I heard screaming, terrible, terrified, pleading screams. I wanted to help whoever it was, I tried to move my arms, but couldn't...a thick white fog was swirling around me, inside me -

"Harry! Katrina! Are you all right?"

Someone was slapping my face.

"W-what?"

I opened my eyes; there were lanterns above me, and the floor was shaking-the Hogwarts Express was moving again and the lights had come back on. I seemed to have slid out of my seat onto the floor. Ron and Hermione were kneeling next to me and Harry; who was also lying on the ground.

Above me, I could see Neville and Professor Lupin watching.  I slowly crawled back onto the seat, fighting the rising nausea.

"Are you two okay?" Ron asked nervously.

"Yeah," said Harry, as I nodded alongside him.

"What happened? Where's that-that thing? Who screamed?"

"No one screamed," said Ron, more nervously still.

"Yes they did! There was a woman shouting! She sounded terrified!" I piped up.

A loud snap made us all jump. Professor Lupin was breaking an enormous slab of chocolate into pieces.

"Here," he said, handing me a particularly large piece. "Eat it. It'll help."

I took the chocolate but didn't eat it.

"What was that thing?" Harry and I said together. I looked at him but he was gazing intently at Lupin.

"A dementor," said Lupin, who was now giving chocolate to everyone else. "One of the dementors of Azkaban."

Everyone stared at him. Professor Lupin crumpled up the empty chocolate wrapper and put it in his pocket.

"Eat," he repeated. "It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me..."

He strolled past us and disappeared into the corridor.

"Are you sure you're okay, Katrina, Harry?" said Hermione, watching us anxiously.

"I don't get it...What happened?" said Harry, wiping sweat off his face.

"Well-that thing-the dementor-stood there and looked around (I mean, I think it did, I couldn't see its face)-and you two-you-"

"I thought you were having a fit or something," said Ron, who still looked scared. "You both went sort of rigid and fell out of your seats and started twitching-"

"And Professor Lupin stepped over you, and walked toward the dementor, and pulled out his wand," said Hermione, "and he said, 'None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go.' But the dementor didn't move, so Lupin muttered something, and a silvery thing shot out of his wand at it, and it turned around and sort of glided away..."

"It was horrible," said Neville, in a higher voice than usual. "Did you feel how cold it got when it came in?"

"I felt weird," said Ron, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably. "Like I'd never be cheerful again..."

Ginny, who was huddled in her corner looking nearly as bad as I felt, gave a small sob; Hermione went over and put a comforting arm around her.

"But didn't any of you-fall off your seats?" said Harry awkwardly.

"Well clearly I did!" I said gesturing to myself.

"Yeah, well...I clearly meant besides you!" I frowned at the harsh tone in his voice and looked down. It almost sounded like he was mad at me! Did he not care at all that I had fainted just like he had?!

"No," said Ron, looking anxious again. "Ginny was shaking like mad, though..."

I didn't understand. I felt weak and shivery, as though I were recovering from a bad bout of flu; I also felt the beginnings of shame. Why had I gone to pieces like that, when no one else but Harry had?

"This is just like the voices last year..." I mumbled sadly as I twisted a strand of my hair around my finger. I saw Harry look at me sharply but then turn his head to stare out the window. What was his problem!

Soon, Professor Lupin came back. He paused as he entered, looked around, and said, with a small smile, "I haven't poisoned that chocolate, you know..."

I took a bite and to my great surprise felt warmth spread suddenly to the tips of my fingers and toes.

"We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes," said Professor Lupin. "Are you all right, Katrina, Harry?"

I didn't ask how Professor Lupin knew my name.

"Fine," I muttered, embarrassed. 

We didn't talk much during the remainder of the journey. At long last, the train stopped at Hogsmeade station, and there was a great scramble to get outside; owls hooted, cats meowed, and Neville's pet toad croaked loudly from under his hat. It was freezing on the tiny platform; rain was driving down in icy sheets.

"Firs' years this way!" called a familiar voice. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I turned and saw the gigantic outline of Hagrid at the other end of the platform, beckoning the terrified-looking new students forward for their traditional journey across the lake.

"All righ', you four?" Hagrid yelled over the heads of the crowd. We waved at him, but had no chance to speak to him because the mass of people around us was shunting us away along the platform. We followed the rest of the school along the platform and out onto a rough mud track, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited the remaining students, each pulled, I could only assume, by an invisible horse, because when we climbed inside and shut the door, the coach set off all by itself, bumping and swaying in procession.

At last, the carriage swayed to a halt, and we all got out.

As I stepped down, a drawling, delighted voice sounded from behind,

"You fainted, Potter? Is Longbottom telling the truth? You actually fainted?"

Malfoy elbowed past Hermione to block Harry's way up the stone steps to the castle, his face gleeful and his pale eyes glinting maliciously.

"Shove off, Malfoy," said Ron, whose jaw was clenched.

"Did you faint as well, Weasley?" said Malfoy loudly. "Did the scary old dementor frighten you too, Weasley?"

"No, I did, Draco. Are you saying you think it's funny that I fainted?" I said glaring at my friend.

Draco's expression of glee shifted a little as he mumbled, "no, of course not..."

"Is there a problem?" said a mild voice. Professor Lupin had just gotten out of the next carriage.

Malfoy gave Professor Lupin an insolent stare, which took in the patches on his robes. I arched my brows at the look of disgust on his face. I swear! Sometimes he could be so...so arrogant!

"Oh, no-er-Professor," then he smirked at Crabbe and Goyle and led them up the steps into the castle.

Hermione prodded Ron in the back to make him hurry, and the four of us joined the crowd swarming up the steps, through the giant oak front doors, into the cavernous entrance hall, which was lit with flaming torches, and housed a magnificent marble staircase that led to the upper floors.

The door into the Great Hall stood open at the right; Harry followed the crowd toward it, but had barely glimpsed the enchanted ceiling, which was black and cloudy tonight, when a voice called, "Potter! Granger! Katrina! I want to see you three!"

We turned around, surprised. Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher and head of Gryffindor House, was calling over the heads of the crowd. She was a stern-looking witch who wore her hair in a tight bun; her sharp eyes were framed with square spectacles. She was usually very nice to me though and let me call her Minnie when we were alone. We fought our way over to her with a feeling of foreboding: what had we done wrong this time!

"There's no need to look so worried-I just want a word in my office," she told them. "Move along there, Weasley."

Ron stared as Professor McGonagall ushered Harry, Hermione, and I away from the chattering crowd; we accompanied her across the entrance hall, up the marble staircase, and along a corridor.

Once we were in her office, a small room with a large, welcoming fire, Professor McGonagall motioned us to sit down. She settled herself behind her desk and said abruptly, "Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to say that you were taken ill on the train, Katrina, Potter."

Before I could reply, there was a soft knock on the door and Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, came bustling in.

I felt myself going red in the face. It was bad enough that I'd passed out, or whatever Harry and I had done, without everyone making all this fuss.

"I'm fine," I said, "I don't need anything-"

"Oh, it's you two, is it?" said Madam Pomfrey, ignoring this and bending down to stare closely at me. "I suppose you've been doing something dangerous again?"

"It was a dementor, Poppy," said Minnie quietly.

They exchanged a dark look, and Madam Pomfrey clucked disapprovingly.

"Setting dementors around a school," she muttered, pushing back my dark brown hair and feeling my forehead. "They won't be the only ones to collapse. Yes, they are all clammy. Terrible things, they are, and the effect they have on people who are already delicate-"

"I'm not delicate!" said Harry and I crossly; again shouting at the same time. It definitely had become an unintentional habit of ours.

"Of course you're not," said Madam Pomfrey absentmindedly, now taking Harry's pulse.

"What do they need?" said Minnie crisply. "Bed rest? Should they perhaps spend tonight in the hospital wing?"

"I'm fine!" I said, jumping up. I really didn't want to stay there tonight, or ever, if it could be avoided. I didn't like feeling useless, as one often feels when lying in a hospital bed.

"Well, they should have some chocolate, at the very least," said Madam Pomfrey, who was now trying to peer into Harry's eyes.

"We've already had some," said Harry. "Professor Lupin gave us some. He gave it to all of us."

"Did he, now?" said Madam Pomfrey approvingly. "So we've finally got a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who knows his remedies?"

"Are you sure you feel all right, Kat dear? Potter?" Minnie said sharply, looking at me with a stern but caring gaze.

"Yes," said Harry. I nodded in agreement.

"Very well. Kindly wait outside, Potter while I have a quick word with Miss Granger and Katrin about their course schedules, then we can go down to the feast together."

Harry went back into the corridor with Madam Pomfrey, while Hermione entered the room. Minnie then explained to us that since we had requested to take so many classes this year; and were such stellar students, she had managed to convince the Ministry to let us use these devices called time turners which would apparently allow Hermione to turn back time so that we could go to all of our classes.

 

She explained to us all the rules that came with using them and made us swear not to tell anyone that we had them. We hurriedly swore to keep it a secret and the four of us made our way back down the marble staircase to the Great Hall.

It was a sea of pointed black hats; each of the long House tables was lined with students, their faces glimmering by the light of thousands of candles, which were floating over the tables in midair. Professor Flitwick, who was a tiny little wizard with a shock of white hair, was carrying an ancient hat and a three-legged stool out of the hall.

"Oh," said Hermione softly, "we've missed the Sorting!"

New students at Hogwarts were sorted into Houses by trying on the Sorting Hat, which shouted out the House they were best suited to (Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Slytherin). Minnie strode off toward her empty seat at the staff table, and we set off in the other direction, as quietly as possible, toward the Gryffindor table. 

People looked around at us as we passed along the back of the hall, and a few of them pointed at Harry. Had the story of us collapsing in front of the dementor traveled that fast?

He and Hermione sat down on either side of Ron, who had saved us seats. I sat on Hermione's right; farthest from Harry. He didn't seem to want to talk to me for some reason so I figured it would be best to give him his space until he decided to tell me what was up. 

"What was all that about?" Ron muttered to Harry.

Harry started to explain in a whisper, but at that moment grandfather stood up to speak, and he broke off.

My Grandfather, though very old, always gave an impression of great energy. He had several feet of long silver hair and beard, half-moon spectacles, and an extremely crooked nose. He was often described as the greatest wizard of the age, but that wasn't why I respected him. You couldn't help trusting Albus Dumbledore, and as I watched him beaming around at the students, I felt really calm for the first time since the dementor had entered the train compartment. I beamed up at my grandfather as I thought about how proud I was to be related to such an amazing wizard. 

"Welcome!" said Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast..."

Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."

He paused, and I could tell from the expression on his face, that he was not happy with the dementors guarding the school.

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore continued, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises-or even Invisibility Cloaks," he added blandly, and I saw Harry and Ron glanced at each other. "It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors," he said.

Percy, who was sitting a few seats down from Harry, puffed out his chest again and stared around impressively. Grandfather paused again; he looked very seriously around the hall, and nobody moved or made a sound.

"On a happier note," he continued, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year.

"First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause. Only those of us who had been in the compartment on the train with Professor Lupin clapped hard, myself included. Professor Lupin looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes.

"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continued as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away. "Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I stared at one another, stunned. Then we joined in with the applause, which was tumultuous at the Gryffindor table in particular. I leaned forward to see Hagrid, who was ruby-red in the face and staring down at his enormous hands, his wide grin hidden in the tangle of his black beard.

"We should've known!" Ron roared, pounding the table. "Who else would have assigned us a biting book?"

The four of us were the last to stop clapping, and as Professor Dumbledore started speaking again, we saw that Hagrid was wiping his eyes on the tablecloth.

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," said grandfather. "Let the feast begin!"

The golden plates and goblets before us filled suddenly with food and drink. I, suddenly ravenous, helped myself to everything I could reach and began to eat.

It was a delicious feast; the hall echoed with talk, laughter, and the clatter of knives and forks. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I, however, were eager for it to finish so that we could talk to Hagrid. We knew how much being made a teacher would mean to him. Hagrid wasn't a fully qualified wizard; he had been expelled from Hogwarts in his third year for a crime he had not committed. It had been Harry, Ron, and Hermione who had cleared Hagrid's name last year. I would have gladly helped but I'd been taken prisoner at the time...

At long last, when the last morsels of pumpkin tart had melted from the golden platters, Dumbledore gave the word that it was time for us all to go to bed, and we got our chance.

"Congratulations, Hagrid!" Hermione squealed as we reached the teachers' table.

"All down ter you three," said Hagrid, wiping his shining face on his napkin as he looked up at my friends. "Can' believe it...great man, Dumbledore...came straight down to me hut after Professor Kettleburn said he'd had enough...It's what I always wanted..."

Overcome with emotion, he buried his face in his napkin, and Minnie shooed us away. I wanted to ask Hagrid about Drake and how he was doing, but figured I could always stop by tomorrow evening.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione joined the Gryffindors streaming up the marble staircase while I waved goodbye and made my way to my own personal dormitory. It was great having my own place but I would give it up in a heartbeat if it meant that I had gotten sorted into an actual house my first year.

My stuff had been delivered to my room already so I set about unpacking then climbed into bed, exhausted but excited to be home again.


	43. Back at School

Katrina's POV

"Ooh, good, we're starting some new subjects today," I said happily to Hermione as I looked over our new schedules. 

"Kat, Hermione," said Ron, frowning as he looked over our shoulders, "they've messed up your schedules. Look - they've got you down for about ten subjects a day. There isn't enough time."

"We'll manage. We've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall."

"But look," said Ron, laughing, "see this morning? Nine o'clock, Divination. And underneath, nine o'clock, Muggle Studies. And," - Ron leaned closer to the schedule, disbelieving - "look - underneath that, Arithmancy, nine o'clock. I mean, I know you two are good, but no one's that good. How're you supposed to be in three classes at once?"

"Don't be silly," said Hermione shortly as I kept my mouth shut. "Of course we won't be in three classes at once."

"Well, then -"

"Pass the marmalade," said Hermione.

"But -"

"Oh, Ron, what's it to you if our schedule's are a bit full?" Hermione snapped. "I told you, we've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall."

Just then, Hagrid entered the Great Hall. He was wearing his long moleskin overcoat and was absentmindedly swinging a dead polecat from one enormous hand.

"All righ'?" he said eagerly, pausing on the way to the staff table. "Yer in my firs' ever lesson! Right after lunch! Bin up since five gettin' everythin' ready...Hope it's okay...Me, a teacher...hones'ly..."

He grinned broadly at us and headed off to the staff table, still swinging the polecat.

"Wonder what he's been getting ready?" said Ron, a note of anxiety in his voice.

The hall was starting to empty as people headed off toward their first lessons. Ron checked his course schedule.

"We'd better go, look, Divination's at the top of North Tower. It'll take us ten minutes to get there..."

We finished our breakfasts hastily, said good-bye to Fred and George, and walked back through the hall. When neither Ron or Harry were paying attention, Hermione and I ducked behind a pillar and dashed off to Muggle Studies. 

The class turned out to be just as fascinating as I thought it would. Hermione and I had both been interested to see how the muggle world was seen from the eyes of wizards. After the class was over, we used the time turners to go back and rushed off to Arithmancy; which was just as captivating of a class.

Then it was time to join the boys. We went back and reappeared next to the original pillar we had disappeared behind. We rejoined Harry and Ron and it was clear that they hadn't noticed our absence and we went off to try and find the Divination classroom.

The journey through the castle to North Tower was a long one. 

"There's-got-to-be-a-shortcut," Ron panted as we climbed out seventh long staircase and emerged on an unfamiliar landing, where there was nothing but a large painting of a bare stretch of grass hanging on the stone wall.

"I think it's this way," said Hermione, peering down the empty passage to the right.

"Can't be," said Ron. "That's south, look, you can see a bit of the lake out of the window..."

Harry and I were watching the painting. A fat, dapple-gray pony had just ambled onto the grass and was grazing nonchalantly. A moment later, a short, squat knight in a suit of armor clanked into the picture after his pony. By the look of the grass stains on his metal knees, he had just fallen off.

"Aha!" he yelled as his eyes fell on us. "What villains are these, that trespass upon my private lands! Come to scorn at my fall, perchance? Draw, you knaves, you dogs!"

We watched in astonishment as the little knight tugged his sword out of its scabbard and began brandishing it violently, hopping up and down in rage. But the sword was too long for him; a particularly wild swing made him overbalance, and he landed facedown in the grass.

"Are you all right?" I said, moving closer to the picture.

"Get back!"

The knight seized his sword again and used it to push himself back up, but the blade sank deeply into the grass and, though he pulled with all his might, he couldn't get it out again. Finally, he had to flop back down onto the grass and push up his visor to mop his sweating face.

"Listen," said Harry, taking advantage of the knight's exhaustion, "we're looking for the North Tower. You don't know the way, do you?"

"A quest!" The knight's rage seemed to vanish instantly. He clanked to his feet and shouted, "Come follow me, dear friends, and we shall find our goal, or else shall perish bravely in the charge!"

He gave the sword another fruitless tug, tried and failed to mount the fat pony, gave up, and cried, "On foot then, good sirs and gentle ladies! On! On!"

We hurried after him along the corridor, following the sound of his armor. Every now and then we spotted him running through a picture ahead.

"Be of stout heart, the worst is yet to come!" yelled the knight, and we saw him reappear in front of an alarmed group of women in crinolines, whose picture hung on the wall of a narrow spiral staircase.

Puffing loudly, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I climbed the tightly spiraling steps, getting dizzier and dizzier, until at last we heard the murmur of voices above them and knew we had reached the classroom.

"Farewell!" cried the knight, popping his head into a painting of some sinister-looking monks. "Farewell, my comrades-in-arms! If ever you have need of noble heart and steely sinew, call upon Sir Cadogan!"

"Yeah, we'll call you," muttered Ron as the knight disappeared, "if we ever need someone mental." I tried to contain a giggle as I heard him say this.

We climbed the last few steps and emerged onto a tiny landing, where most of the class was already assembled. There were no doors off this landing, but on the ceiling there was a circular trapdoor with a brass plaque on it.

"'Sibyll Trelawney, Divination teacher,'" Harry read out loud. "How're we supposed to get up there?"

As though in answer to his question, the trapdoor suddenly opened, and a silvery ladder descended right at my feet. Everyone got quiet.

"After you," said Ron, grinning at me, so I climbed the ladder first.

I emerged into the strangest-looking classroom I had ever seen. In fact, it didn't look like a classroom at all, more like a cross between someone's attic and an old-fashioned tea shop. At least twenty small, circular tables were crammed inside it, all surrounded by chintz armchairs and fat little poufs. 

Everything was lit with a dim, crimson light; the curtains at the windows were all closed, and the many lamps were draped with dark red scarves. It was stiflingly warm, and the fire that was burning under the crowded mantelpiece was giving off a heavy, sickly sort of perfume as it heated a large copper kettle. The shelves running around the circular walls were crammed with dusty-looking feathers, stubs of candles, many packs of tattered playing cards, countless silvery crystal balls, and a huge array of teacups.

Ron appeared at my shoulder as the class assembled around us, all talking in whispers.

"Where is she?" Ron said.

A voice came suddenly out of the shadows, a soft, misty sort of voice.

"Welcome," it said. "How nice to see you in the physical world at last."

My immediate impression was of a large, glittering insect. Professor Trelawney moved into the firelight, and we saw that she was very thin; her large glasses magnified her eyes to several times their natural size, and she was draped in a gauzy spangled shawl. Innumerable chains and beads hung around her spindly neck, and her arms and hands were encrusted with bangles and rings.

"Sit, my children, sit," she said, and we all climbed awkwardly into armchairs or sank onto poufs. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I sat ourselves around the same round table.

"Welcome to Divination," said Professor Trelawney, who had seated herself in a winged armchair in front of the fire. "My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye."

Nobody said anything to this extraordinary pronouncement. Professor Trelawney delicately rearranged her shawl and continued, "So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you. Books can take you only so far in this field..."

At these words, both Harry and Ron glanced, grinning, at Hermione and I, who looked startled at the news that books wouldn't be much help to us in this subject.

"Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future," Professor Trelawney went on, her enormous, gleaming eyes moving from face to nervous face. "It is a Gift granted to few. You, boy," she said suddenly to Neville, who almost toppled off his pouf. "Is your grandmother well?"

"I think so," said Neville tremulously.

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you, dear," said Professor Trelawney, the firelight glinting on her long emerald earrings. Neville gulped. Professor Trelawney continued placidly. "We will be covering the basic methods of Divination this year. The first term will be devoted to reading the tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to palmistry. By the way, my dear," she shot suddenly at Parvati Patil, "beware a red-haired man."

Parvati gave a startled look at Ron, who was right behind her, and edged her chair away from him. I put a hand to my mouth to stop another giggle from escaping.

"In the second term," Professor Trelawney went on, "we shall progress to the crystal ball - if we have finished with fire omens, that is. Unfortunately, classes will be disrupted in February by a nasty bout of flu. I myself will lose my voice. And around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever."

A very tense silence followed this pronouncement, but Professor Trelawney seemed unaware of it.

"I wonder, dear," she said to Lavender Brown, who was nearest and shrank back in her chair, "if you could pass me the largest silver teapot?"

Lavender, looking relieved, stood up, took an enormous teapot from the shelf, and put it down on the table in front of Professor Trelawney.

"Thank you, my dear. Incidentally, that thing you are dreading - it will happen on Friday the sixteenth of October."

Lavender trembled.

"Now, I want you all to divide into pairs. Collect a teacup from the shelf, come to me, and I will fill it. Then sit down and drink, drink until only the dregs remain. Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, then turn the cup upside down on its saucer, wait for the last of the tea to drain away, then give your cup to your partner to read. You will interpret the patterns using pages five and six of Unfogging the Future. I shall move among you, helping and instructing. Oh, and dear" - she caught Neville by the arm as he made to stand up - "after you've broken your first cup, would you be so kind as to select one of the blue patterned ones? I'm rather attached to the pink."

Sure enough, Neville had no sooner reached the shelf of teacups when there was a tinkle of breaking china. Professor Trelawney swept over to him holding a dustpan and brush and said, "One of the blue ones, then, dear, if you wouldn't mind...thank you..."

When Hermione and I had our teacups filled, we went back to the table and tried to drink the scalding tea quickly. We swilled the dregs around as Professor Trelawney had instructed, then drained the cups and swapped over.

"Right," said Hermione as we both opened our books to pages five and six. "What can you see in mine?"

"A load of soggy brown stuff," I said. The heavily perfumed smoke in the room was making me feel sleepy and stupid.

"Broaden your minds, my dears, and allow your eyes to see past the mundane!" Professor Trelawney cried through the gloom.

I tried to pull myself together as Hermione started to analyze my cup.

"Right, you've got a crooked sort of cross..." She consulted Unfogging the Future. "That means you're going to have 'trials and suffering' - what nonsense! There's also something that looks like some sort of an animal? Maybe a turtle?" It says that means that your time is slowing down and reaching its end - oh please, this is total dragon dung!" She said shutting the book with a snap. 

Professor Trelawney whirled around as Harry and I burst out laughing; me at the expression on Hermione's face, and Harry at something Ron must have said.

"Let me see those, my dears," she said reprovingly to Ron and Hermione, sweeping over and snatching our cups from them. Everyone went quiet to watch.

Professor Trelawney was staring into the teacups, rotating them counterclockwise.

"The falcon...my dears, you have a deadly enemy."

"But everyone knows that," said Hermione in a loud whisper. Professor Trelawney stared at her.

"Well, they do," said Hermione. "Everybody knows about Harry, Katrina, and You-Know-Who."

Professor Trelawney chose not to reply. She lowered her head to the cups again and continued to turn them.

"The club...an attack. Dear, dear, these are not happy cups...the skull...danger in your path, my dear..."

Everyone was staring, transfixed, at Professor Trelawney, who gave the cups a final turn, gasped, and then screamed.

There was another tinkle of breaking china; Neville had smashed his second cup. Professor Trelawney sank into a vacant armchair, her glittering hand at her heart and her eyes closed.

"My dear boy... my poor, dear girl, no... it is kinder not to say...no...don't ask me..."

"What is it, Professor?" said Dean Thomas at once. Everyone had got to their feet, and slowly they crowded around our table, pressing close to Professor Trelawney's chair to get a good look at our cups.

"My dears," Professor Trelawney's huge eyes opened dramatically, "you have the Grim."


	44. Buckbeak

Katrina's POV

"The what?" said Harry and I together.

I could tell that we weren't the only ones who didn't understand; Dean Thomas shrugged at me and Lavender Brown looked puzzled, but nearly everybody else clapped their hands to their mouths in horror.

"The Grim, my dears, the Grim!" cried Professor Trelawney, who looked shocked that we hadn't understood. "The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dears, it is an omen - the worst omen - of death!"   

My stomach lurched. That dog at Diagon Alley! Lavender Brown clapped her hands to her mouth too. Everyone was looking at Harry and I, everyone except Hermione, who had gotten up and moved around to the back of Professor Trelawney's chair.

"I don't think it looks like a Grim," she said flatly.

Professor Trelawney surveyed Hermione with mounting dislike.

"You'll forgive me for saying so, my dear, but I perceive very little aura around you. Very little receptivity to the resonances of the future."

Seamus Finnigan was tilting his head from side to side.

"It looks like a Grim if you do this," he said, with his eyes almost shut, "but it looks more like a donkey from here," he said, leaning to the left.

"When you've all finished deciding whether we're going to die or not!" said Harry, I looked at him in surprise.

"I think we will leave the lesson here for today," said Professor Trelawney in her mistiest voice. "Yes...please pack away your things..."

Silently we took our teacups back to Professor Trelawney, packed away our books, and closed our bags. Even Ron was avoiding my eyes.

"Until we meet again," said Professor Trelawney faintly, "fair fortune be yours. Oh, and dear" - she pointed at Neville -"you'll be late next time, so mind you work extra-hard to catch up."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I descended Professor Trelawney's ladder and the winding stair in silence, then set off for Minnie's Transfiguration lesson. It took us so long to find her classroom that, early as we had left Divination, we were only just in time.

Harry and I chose seats right at the back of the room, feeling as though we were sitting in a very bright spotlight; the rest of the class kept shooting furtive glances at us, as though we were about to drop dead at any moment. I tried to pay attention as Minnie was telling us about Animagi (wizards who could transform at will into animals), and was one of the few people who clapped when she transformed herself in front of our eyes into a tabby cat with spectacle markings around her eyes. How cool would that be? I wish I could transform into something! But according to Minnie, it was extremely difficult to achieve and there weren't many who could do it. 

"Really, what has got into you all today?" said Minnie, turning back into herself with a faint pop, and staring around at us. "Not that it matters, but that's the first time my transformation's not got applause from a class."

Everybody's heads turned toward Harry and I again, but nobody spoke. Then Hermione raised her hand.

"Please, Professor, we've just had our first Divination class, and we were reading the tea leaves, and -"

"Ah, of course," said Minnie, suddenly frowning. "There is no need to say any more, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?"

Everyone stared at her.

"Me," said Harry, finally. 

"And me..." I added in the silence that had followed his statement. Minnie's head whipped around to look at me.

"I see," she said, focusing on Harry, rather than looking at me. "Then you two should know, that Sibyll Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favorite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues -"

Minnie broke off, and we saw that her nostrils had gone white. She went on, more calmly, "Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and Professor Trelawney -"

She stopped again, and then said, in a very matter-of-fact tone, "You two look in excellent health to me, so you will excuse me if I don't let you off homework today. I assure you that if either of you die, you need not hand it in." As hard as she was trying to play it off, I could tell that the news had rattled Minnie. 

When the Transfiguration class had finished, I stayed back so I could talk to her. 

"Minnie, if there's nothing to worry about, then why did you look so upset back there?" I asked, hesitantly.

"Nonsense, Kat! Nothing's going to happen to you!" Though her words were aimed at me, I got the feeling that they were more for her benefit. I opened my mouth to confront her, but she didn't give me the chance. "There's absolutely nothing wrong, Katrina, now kindly join your fellow students in the Great Hall for lunch!" I bowed my head and backed out of the room.

I found my three friends and sat down facing them on the opposite side of the table just as Hermione was telling Ron to cheer up.

Ron spooned stew onto his plate and picked up his fork but didn't start.

"Harry, Katrina," he said, in a low, serious voice, "you haven't seen a great black dog anywhere, have you?"

"Yeah, I have," I said at the same time as Harry. We looked at each other in surprise. 

"I saw one the night I left the Dursleys'." Harry explained.

"I saw one when I went to get my school supplies in Diagon Alley."

Ron let his fork fall with a clatter.

"Probably strays," said Hermione calmly.

Ron looked at Hermione as though she had gone mad.

"Hermione, if Harry and Katrina have both seen a Grim, that's - I mean that can't be a coincidence! My - my uncle Bilius saw one and - and he died twenty-four hours later!"

"Coincidence," said Hermione airily, pouring herself some pumpkin juice.

"You don't know what you're talking about!" said Ron, starting to get angry. "Grims scare the living daylights out of most wizards!"

"There you are, then," said Hermione in a superior tone. "They see the Grim and die of fright. The Grim's not an omen, it's the cause of death! And Harry and Katrina are still with us because they're not stupid enough to see one and think, right, well, I'd better kick the bucket then!"

Ron mouthed wordlessly at Hermione, who opened her bag, took out her new Arithmancy book, and propped it open against the juice jug.

"I think Divination seems very woolly," she said, searching for her page. "A lot of guesswork, if you ask me."

"There was nothing woolly about the Grim in that cup!" said Ron hotly.

"You didn't seem quite so confident when you were telling Harry it was a sheep," said Hermione coolly.

"Professor Trelawney said you didn't have the right aura! You just don't like being bad at something for a change!"

I could tell he had touched a nerve. Hermione slammed her Arithmancy book down on the table so hard that bits of meat and carrot flew everywhere.

"If being good at Divination means I have to pretend to see death omens in a lump of tea leaves, I'm not sure I'll be studying it much longer! That lesson was absolute rubbish compared with our Arithmancy class!" She snatched up her bag and stalked away. 

"Nice going, Ron!" I said, glaring at Ron. I gathered up my own things and chased after Hermione. We used our time-turners and headed off for our next class before joining back up with Harry and Ron for our first Care of Magical Creatures class.

Ron and Hermione weren't speaking to each other and Harry kept glancing at me but not saying anything. What in Merlin's name was going on with him! I spotted Draco walking up ahead of us and with one last glance at Harry, ran forward to join him.

Hagrid was waiting for us at the door of his hut. He stood in his moleskin overcoat, with Fang the boarhound at his heels, looking impatient to start.

"C'mon, now, get a move on!" he called as we approached. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"

For one nasty moment, I thought that Hagrid was going to lead us into the forest; however, Hagrid strolled off around the edge of the trees, and five minutes later, we found ourselves outside a kind of paddock. There was nothing in there.

"Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" he called. "That's it - make sure yeh can see - now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books -"

"How?" said Draco, in that cold drawling voice of his. I elbowed him in irritation.

"Eh?" said Hagrid.

"How do we open our books?" Draco repeated in a slightly less snippy tone. He took out his copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, which he had bound shut with a length of rope. Other people took theirs out too; some, like me, had belted their book shut; others had crammed them inside tight bags or clamped them together with binder clips.

"Hasn' - hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" said Hagrid, looking crestfallen.

We all all shook our heads.

"Yeh've got ter stroke 'em," said Hagrid, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Look -"

He took Hermione's copy and ripped off the Spellotape that bound it. The book tried to bite, but Hagrid ran a giant forefinger down its spine, and the book shivered, and then fell open and lay quiet in his hand.

"Oh, how silly we've all been!" Malfoy sneered. "We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess!" I elbowed him harder this time.

"I - I thought they were funny," Hagrid said uncertainly to Hermione.

"Oh, tremendously funny!" said Draco, "Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!" I elbowed him as hard as I could this time and with a yelp of pain, he finally closed his big mouth. I stared at him coldly before turning around and standing next to Hermione.

"Righ' then," said Hagrid, who seemed to have lost his thread, "so - so yeh've got yer books an' - an' - now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on..."

He strode away from us into the forest and out of sight.

"God, this place is going to the dogs," said Draco loudly. "That oaf teaching classes, my father'll have a fit when I tell him -" I was too far away to kick him so I had to settle for giving him the best death stare I could manage.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry said, loudly.

I continued to stare Draco down and he finally got the message and shut his mouth.

"Oooooooh!" squealed Lavender Brown, pointing toward the opposite side of the paddock.

Trotting towards us were a dozen of the most bizarre creatures I had ever seen. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-colored beaks and large, brilliantly orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all of these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures.

"Gee up, there!" he roared, shaking the chains and urging the creatures toward the fence where we stood. We all drew back slightly as Hagrid reached us and tethered the creatures to the fence.

"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"

I could sort of see what Hagrid meant. Once you got over the first shock of seeing something that was half horse, half bird, you started to appreciate the hippogriffs' gleaming coats, changing smoothly from feather to hair, each of them a different color: stormy gray, bronze, pinkish roan, gleaming chestnut, and inky black.

"So," said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, "if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer -"

No one seemed to want to. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I, however, approached the fence cautiously.

"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' hippogriffs is, they're proud," said Hagrid. "Easily offended, hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do. Yeh always wait fer the hippogriff ter make the firs' move," Hagrid continued. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt.

We all stood back quickly as he said this.

"Right - who wants ter go first?" We all stood there in silence, no one wanting to volunteer.

"No one?" said Hagrid, with a pleading look.

"I'll do it," said Harry. 

There was an intake of breath from behind us, and both Lavender and Parvati whispered, "Oooh, no, Harry, remember your tea leaves!"

Harry ignored them and climbed over the paddock fence.

"Good man, Harry!" roared Hagrid. "Right then - let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak."

He untied one of the chains and lead the hippogriff named Buckbeak into the center of the paddock. We all watched as Harry slowly walked forward and bowed. After a horribly long pause, Buckbeak returned the gesture and we all clapped enthusiastically. Hagrid then suggested that Harry get on Buckbeak's back and the two of them soared up into the air.

"Good work, Harry!" roared Hagrid as we all cheered when Buckbeak touched back down. "Okay, who else wants a go?"

After watching Harry's success, the rest of us climbed cautiously into the paddock. Hagrid untied the hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously, all over the paddock. Neville ran repeatedly backward from his, which didn't seem to want to bend its knees. Ron and Hermione practiced on a chestnut, while Harry watched me interact with Buckbeak. 

I was stroking Buckbeak's feathers when I felt something small and fast zoom past me and hit the animal in the side. I stepped back quickly as Buckbeak roared in anger and lifted himself onto his hind legs. My eyes widened and my heart froze as I saw their trajectory. I dived forward and knocked Harry out of harms way, landing on top of him as a sharp pain tore through my left shoulder.

My eyes met green and I blushed furiously as I tried to untangle myself. "I'm sorry! Are you okay, Harry!" I cried out as I finally managed to stand up. 

"Yeah, I'm fine, just got the wind knocked out of me," Harry replied, still refusing to look at me. This irritated me - I had just saved him from who knows what and he still didn't have the guts to look at me for more than half a second! Ugh. I turned around to storm off but the hasty movement pulled at my shoulder and I couldn't help a small whimper from escaping.

"Kat! You're bleeding!" Hermione screamed as she ran forward to help steady me. "Hagrid! She has to be taken to Madam Pomfrey - immediately!"

Hagrid, who had been wrestling to get Buckbeak back under control, rushed over and picked me up in one quick movement. I yelled in shock and pain as my shoulder bumped into his chest.

"Sorry! Kat, sorry! Someone help me - gotta get her outta here -" the last thing I remember seeing was Hermione as she ran forward to hold open the gate for Hagrid.

********************************************

Harry's POV

Very shaken, the Care of Magical Creatures class trooped back to the castle. The Slytherins were all shouting about Hagrid.

"They should fire him straight away!" said Pansy Parkinson, who was in tears.

"It was Malfoy's fault! I saw him throw a rock!" snapped Dean Thomas. Crabbe and Goyle flexed their muscles threateningly.

We all climbed the stone steps into the deserted entrance hall. The Slytherins, still muttering about Hagrid, headed away in the direction of their dungeon common room; while Ron, Hermione, and I proceeded upstairs to Gryffindor Tower.

"D'you think she'll be all right?" said Hermione nervously.

"'Course she will. Madam Pomfrey can mend cuts in about a second," said Ron.

"That was a really bad thing to happen in Hagrid's first class, though, wasn't it?" Hermione continued, looking worried. "Trust Malfoy to mess things up for him...not to mention, you could have seriously been injured, Harry!

We were among the first to reach the Great Hall at dinnertime, hoping to see Hagrid, but he wasn't there.

"They wouldn't fire him, would they?" said Hermione anxiously, not touching her steak-and-kidney pudding.

"They'd better not," said Ron, who wasn't eating either.

I was watching the Slytherin table. A large group including Malloy, Crabbe and Goyle were huddled together, deep in conversation. I was sure they were cooking up their own version of what had happened.

"Well, you can't say it wasn't an interesting first day back," said Ron gloomily.

We went up to the crowded Gryffindor common room after dinner and tried to do the homework Professor McGonagall had given us, but we kept breaking off and glancing out of the tower window.

"There's a light on in Hagrid's window," I said suddenly.

Ron looked at his watch.

"If we hurried, we could go down and see him. It's still quite early..."

"I don't know," Hermione said slowly, and I saw her glance at me.

"I'm allowed to walk across the grounds," I said pointedly. "Sirius Black hasn't got past the dementors yet, has he?"

So we put our things away and headed out of the portrait hole, glad to meet nobody on our way to the front doors, as we weren't entirely sure we were supposed to be out.

The grass was still wet and looked almost black in the twilight. When we reached Hagrid's hut, we knocked, and a voice growled, "C'min."

Hagrid was sitting in his shirtsleeves at his scrubbed wooden table; his boarhound, Fang, had his head in Hagrid's lap. One look told them that Hagrid had been drinking a lot; there was a pewter tankard almost as big as a bucket in front of him, and he seemed to be having difficulty getting them into focus.

"'Spect it's a record," he said thickly, when he recognized us. "Don' reckon they've ever had a teacher who lasted on'y a day before."

"You haven't been fired, Hagrid!" gasped Hermione.

"Not yet," said Hagrid miserably, taking a huge gulp of whatever was in the tankard. "But 's only a matter o' time, i'n't it, that Malfoy boy s'been shouting all sorts of threats about that father of his...not ter mention, Katrina!" Hagrid moaned and dropped his head to the table.

"How is she?" said Ron as we all sat down. "It wasn't serious, was it?"

"Madam Pomfrey fixed her best she could," said Hagrid dully, "but she lost a lot of blood...covered in bandages..." Hagrid moaned again.

"I'm sure she'll be fine in no time Hagrid! It's Kat, after all." There was a sudden flapping noise and something heavy landed on the table.

"Hagrid, is that what I think it is! I thought we went over this already! You live in a wooden house! You cannot raise a dragon in here!" Ron cried out as we all stared at the mass of moving limbs.

Hagrid sobbed loudly as he looked at the baby dragon. "His name is Drake...belongs to Kat...won't grow much bigger...allowed to be here..." Hagrid groaned and became incomprehensible after awhile so we just sat there in silence and watched the little dragon. I had to admit, he was fascinating to watch, though he looked sickly - his hide was a pale green and he was barely able to keep himself up right. 

"School gov'nors have bin told, o' course," said Hagrid miserably after his sobs had died down. "They reckon I started too big. Shoulda left hippogriffs fer later...done flobberworms or summat...Jus' thought it'd make a good firs' lesson...'S all my fault..."

"It's all Malfoy's fault, Hagrid!" said Hermione earnestly.

"We're witnesses," said Harry. "You said hippogriffs attack if you insult them. It's Malfoy's problem that he wasn't listening. We'll tell Dumbledore what really happened! Dean said Malloy threw a rock at him! That's gotta count for something!"

"Yeah, don't worry, Hagrid, we'll back you up," said Ron.

Tears leaked out of the crinkled corners of Hagrid's beetle-black eyes. He grabbed both Ron and I, pulling us into a bone-breaking hug.

"I think you've had enough to drink, Hagrid," said Hermione firmly. She took the tankard from the table and went outside to empty it.

"Ar, maybe she's right," said Hagrid, finally letting go of us. Hagrid heaved himself out of his chair and followed Hermione unsteadily outside. We heard a loud splash.

"What's he done?" I said nervously as Hermione came back in with the empty tankard.

"Stuck his head in the water barrel," said Hermione, putting the tankard away.

Hagrid came back, his long hair and beard sopping wet, wiping the water out of his eyes.

"Tha's better," he said, shaking his head like a dog and drenching us all. "Listen, it was good of yeh ter come an' see me, I really -"

Hagrid stopped dead, staring at me as though he'd only just realized I was there.

"WHAT D'YEH THINK YOU'RE DOIN', EH?" he roared, so suddenly that we jumped a foot in the air. "YEH'RE NOT TO GO WANDERIN' AROUND AFTER DARK, HARRY! AN' YOU TWO! LETTIN' HIM!"

Hagrid strode over to me, grabbed his arm, and pulled me to the door.

"C'mon!" Hagrid said angrily. "I'm takin' yer all back up ter school, an' don' let me catch yeh walkin' down ter see me after dark again. I'm not worth that!"

********************************************

The next morning, Hermione, Ron, and I woke up early and dashed to the hospital wing to check on Kat.

We sat by her bed and watched her - she was still sleeping and my mind was racing. I didn't know what to think. After what Dumbledore had told me at the end of last year...I just couldn't look at her the same. He had told me not to let it influence my opinion of her, but it wasn't possible. Her father was the reason I didn't have a father of my own - or a mother. He was the darkest and cruelest wizard the world had ever known, there was simply no way that none of that evil had been passed down to her. 

Yet hadn't she just saved my life? And we both fought against Voldemort our first year. Why would she have done that if she was evil? - Yet what if it was all part of some secret plan to bring him back to power? Ugh! How could she possibly not know about her father? And if she really didn't, then as her best friend, could I really keep such a big secret from her! She would never speak to me again if she ever found out! But then, it would kill her if she ever did find out - assuming that she really wasn't anything like her father! 

I ruffled my hair in frustration as we all got up and headed down to breakfast. I was completely torn and I couldn't ask anyone for advice without breaking my promise to Dumbledore! What in Merlin's name was I supposed to do now that I knew the truth?!


	45. The Boggart

(This chapter is dedicated to:

Gothamfangirl  
Littlelizruth  
Mortem Ensis47  
YandereSky  
Tabitha Mossley  
And 'Guest'

Thanks to all of you for helping me create the idea for Kat's boggart! I combined all of your ideas into one big horrible nightmare for Kat - the mystery; for now, lies in whether the person she sees is herself or her father...or someone else...comment what you think the answer is! :p - I'll be sprinkling more encounters throughout this book and the next ones to help give you clues)

Katrina's POV

My first thought was Lord Voldemort - a Voldemort returned to full strength. But before I had even started to plan a possible counterattack on a boggart-Voldemort, a horrible image came floating to the surface of my mind...

A girlish scream filled my head as I flashed back to last summer when I'd lost control and almost burned the girls at the orphanage alive. My mind raced as image after image flashed before me, each body burned to ashes: Fred, George, Oliver, Neville, Draco, Sev, grandfather, Ron, Hermione - each one of them turned to ash as I stood watching and laughing as my flames devoured them all - until all that was left was Harry; gazing at me in horror. 

I shivered as I saw the look of hatred in his eyes, then looked around, hoping no one had noticed. Many people had their eyes shut tight. Ron was muttering to himself, "Take its legs off." I was sure I knew what that was about. Ron's greatest fear was spiders.

"Everyone ready?" said Professor Lupin.

I felt a lurch of fear. I wasn't ready. How was I supposed to make what I'd just seen less frightening? But I didn't want to ask for more time; everyone else was nodding and rolling up their sleeves.

"Neville, we're going to back away," said Professor Lupin. "Let you have a clear field, all right? I'll call the next person forward...Everyone back, now, so Neville can get a clear shot -"

We all retreated, backing against the walls, leaving Neville alone beside the wardrobe. He looked pale and frightened, but he had pushed up the sleeves of his robes and was holding his wand ready.

"On the count of three, Neville," said Professor Lupin, who was pointing his own wand at the handle of the wardrobe. "One-two-three-now!"

A jet of sparks shot from the end of Professor Lupin's wand and hit the doorknob. The wardrobe burst open. A hook-nosed and menacing, Professor Snape stepped out, his eyes flashing at Neville.

Neville backed away, his wand up, mouthing wordlessly. Snape was bearing down upon him, reaching inside his robes.

"R-r-riddikulus!" squeaked Neville.

There was a noise like a whip crack. Snape stumbled; he was wearing a long, lace-trimmed dress and a towering hat topped with a moth-eaten vulture, and he was swinging a huge crimson handbag.

There was a roar of laughter; the boggart paused, confused, and Professor Lupin shouted, "Parvati! Forward!"

Parvati walked forward, her face set. Snape rounded on her. There was another crack, and where he had stood was a bloodstained, bandaged mummy; its sightless face was turned to Parvati and it began to walk toward her very slowly, dragging its feet, its stiff arms rising-

"Riddikulus!" cried Parvati.

A bandage unraveled at the mummy's feet; it became entangled, fell face forward, and its head rolled off.

"Seamus!" roared Professor Lupin.

Seamus darted past Parvati.

Crack! Where the mummy had been was a woman with floor-length black hair and a skeletal, green-tinged face - a banshee. She opened her mouth wide and an unearthly sound filled the room, a long, wailing shriek that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end -

"Riddikulus!" shouted Seamus.

The banshee made a rasping noise and clutched her throat; her voice was gone.

Crack! The banshee turned into a rat, which chased its tail in a circle, then - crack! - became a rattlesnake, which slithered and writhed before - crack! - becoming a single, bloody eyeball.

"It's confused!" shouted Lupin. "We're getting there! Dean!"

Dean hurried forward.

Crack! The eyeball became a severed hand, which flipped over and began to creep along the floor like a crab.

"Riddikulus!" yelled Dean.

There was a snap, and the hand was trapped in a mousetrap.

"Excellent! Ron, you next!"

Ron leapt forward.

Crack!

Quite a few people screamed. A giant spider, six feet tall and covered in hair, was advancing on Ron, clicking its pincers menacingly. For a moment, I thought Ron had frozen. Then -

"Riddikulus!" bellowed Ron, and the spider's legs vanished; it rolled over and over; Lavender Brown squealed and ran out of its way and it came to a halt at my feet. I raised my wand, terrified about what I was going to see.  
Crack!

I screamed in shock as a wall of flames erupted in front of me; stretching across the length of the room. Everyone backed away, unsure of whether the flames were real or not. As I watched the flames grow higher, I saw shapes appear inside and squinted. My blood froze as I saw a black figure - hooded and cloaked, looking down and laughing coldly as a pile of bones burned to dust. 

 

I stood paralyzed as I gazed at the figure; now walking out of the flames and towards me, hand outstretched - beckoning to me. I continued to watch as the figures of my friends appeared inside the flames, calling out to me for help. But I couldn't move and their begging pleas quickly turned to anger as they shouted insults at me. My eyes locked onto a pair of green and my heart broke as I saw the look of disgust and hurt on my best friends face. I couldn't take it and had to look away. 

As I did so, my gaze fell on the darkened figure again and it reached out to me again. Even without words, I could sense that it was trying to tell me to abandon everyone to the flames and revel in the destruction my power could cause. Whispered promises filled my thoughts and before I knew it, I found myself taking a trembling step forward toward the figure. 

As I moved forward, the figure made to lower its' hood and I felt a sense of excitement flood my mind as I anticipated finding out who it was.

"Here!" shouted Professor Lupin suddenly, hurrying forward.

Crack!

The figure vanished along with the flames. For a second, everyone looked wildly around to see where it was. Then we saw a silvery-white orb hanging in the air in front of Lupin, who said, "Riddikulus!" almost lazily.

Crack!

"Forward, Neville, and finish him off!" said Lupin as the boggart landed on the floor as a cockroach. Crack! Severus was back. This time Neville charged forward looking determined.

"Riddikulus!" he shouted, and we had a split second's view of Sev in his lacy dress before Neville let out a great "Ha!" of laughter, and the boggart exploded, burst into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and was gone.

"Excellent!" cried Professor Lupin as the class broke into applause. "Excellent, Neville. Well done, everyone...Let me see...five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle the boggart - ten for Neville because he did it twice...and five each to Hermione and Harry."

"But I didn't do anything," said Harry.

"You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of the class, Harry," Lupin said lightly. "Very well, everyone, an excellent lesson. Homework, kindly read the chapter on boggarts and summarize it for me...to be handed in on Monday. That will be all."

Talking excitedly, the class left the staffroom. I, however, wasn't feeling cheerful. I was too shocked by what I had seen to think clearly. I glanced over at Harry to see him looking at me with that strange look in his eyes again, but this time, I thought I saw a hint of fear as well. I gulped down the huge lump in my throat and hurried ahead of the group as we made our way back to the classroom to collect our things.

"That was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson we've ever had, wasn't it?" I heard Ron say excitedly.

"He seems like a very good teacher," said Hermione approvingly. "But I wish I could have had a turn with the boggart -"

"What would it have been for you?" said Ron, sniggering. "A piece of homework that only got nine out of ten?" Any other time I might have found this funny, but the reminder of the boggart caused another shiver to rack my body and I increased my speed, wishing that I could leave my thoughts as easily as the students behind me.

(Sorry for the short chapter but wanted to get this scene out of the way finally! Remember to comment your thoughts as well as who you think the figure was!)


	46. Flight of the Fat Lady

Katrina's POV

In no time at all, Defense Against the Dark Arts had become most people's favorite class. His next few lessons were just as interesting as the first. After Boggarts, we studied Red Caps, nasty little goblin-like creatures that lurked wherever there had been bloodshed: in the dungeons of castles and the potholes of deserted battlefields, waiting to bludgeon those who had gotten lost. From Red Caps we moved on to Kappas, creepy water-dwellers that looked like scaly monkeys, with webbed hands itching to strangle unwitting waders in their ponds.

I only wished I was as happy with some of my other classes. Worst of all was Potions. Not only was my godfather in a particularly vindictive mood these days because of Neville's Boggart, but Harry was being even more distant than ever. It had gotten so bad that I had stopped sitting next to him in classes and was now partnering with Draco whenever I could; which seemed to infuriate not only Harry, but Pansy Parkinson as well - who had been pushed aside now that I was spending all of my time with Draco. Not a single lesson passed that I couldn't feel the two of them glaring daggers at my back. 

I was also growing to dread the hours I spent in Professor Trelawney's stifling tower room, deciphering lopsided shapes and symbols, trying to ignore the way Professor Trelawney's enormous eyes filled with tears every time she looked at me and Harry. I couldn't like Professor Trelawney, even though she was treated with respect bordering on reverence by many of the class. Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown had taken to haunting Professor Trelawney's tower room at lunch times, and always returned with annoyingly superior looks on their faces, as though they knew things the rest of us didn't. They had also started using hushed voices whenever they spoke to me, as though I were on my deathbed.

Nobody really liked Care of Magical Creatures, which, after the action-packed first class, had become extremely dull. Hagrid seemed to have lost his confidence. We were now spending lesson after lesson learning how to look after flobberworms, which had to be some of the most boring creatures in existence.

While boring, lessons with Hagrid did give me the opportunity to regularly check up on Drake; since I couldn't visit as often as I would have liked - especially after the start of October. The Quidditch season was approaching, and this was Oliver's last chance to win. Full of determination, we had started training sessions, three evenings a week. The weather was getting colder and wetter, the nights darker, but no amount of mud, wind, or rain could tarnish our wonderful vision of finally winning the huge, silver Quidditch Cup.

As much as I loved flying, our practices caused certain problems for me. Ever since I had started hanging out with Draco again, Pansy had been going out of her way to make my life miserable. During the day, Hermione and I managed to find alternative routes to our classes, but I had to be extra careful at night. Hermione kept telling me to walk back with Harry, but now that he wasn't talking to me again, I refused to ask for his help. Besides, having to deal with Pansy was nothing compared to the girls at the Orphanage! Or at least I thought...

I was walking back to my room one evening after training, cold and stiff but pleased with the way practice had gone, when Pansy and her best friend, Millicent Bulstrode, managed to catch me by surprise. I stopped in my tracks as I came face to face with them - mentally berating myself for getting so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't hear them coming down the hall.

I tried to pull out my wand, but with my broomstick in one hand and my robes in the other, I couldn't get to it in time. Pansy and Millicent sent me flying across the hall and my head landed heavily against the wall; causing my ears to ring. Stars danced before my eyes and I blinked furiously, trying to clear my vision. 

As Pansy and Millicent made their way over to me, I found myself once more, flashing back to the the previous summer. I felt the familiar dark energy rise within me and I was just about to give into the power when I remembered my Boggart and my rage turned to fear. I still didn't know who the figure had been, but I knew I never wanted to become anything like that. 

I didn't want to be powerful, I just wanted to be normal! But I knew that would never be possible for me. As strong and powerful as I was 'supposed' to be, I found myself feeling small and powerless as Pansy and Millicent continued to toss me around like a rag doll. I couldn't make up my mind on the best course of action which meant I wasn't doing anything - how pathetic of me! I kept thinking that anything I did to protect myself would spiral out of control, turning me into an evil monster - and yet - I didn't want to be helpless against bullies anymore! 

As I curled up into a ball, my thoughts turned to my friends - I desperately wished I could be brave like them - they were true Gryffindors - and I - I was a worthless wannabee who belonged nowhere. 

A small voice in the back of my mind called out against these newest thoughts and I clung to it desperately. I wasn't worthless! I was smart, kind, and just as brave as any Gryffindor - and I was definitely more loyal than Harry was acting at the moment! As I focused on this, I felt another wave of energy wash over me, but this time, it was uplifting and I couldn't sense anything dark about it. A tingling sensation traveled up my body and I suddenly began to tremble.

All three of us froze as we watched my skin ripple all over. I closed my eyes and waited till the tremors had stopped. Once they had, I slowly opened one eye, uncertain of what new horrible thing I had just done.

My eyes opened wide in surprise as I stared around me. For some reason everything looked different. I glanced around to find that I was alone in the hallway once more. The two girls must have run off the minute they saw what was happening. I sighed in relief and made to stand up - only to find that I couldn't. I looked down to find that instead of arms and legs, I had paws - golden fur-covered paws! I felt something wiggle behind me and when I twisted around, I saw that I'd also sprouted a tail! What in Merlin's name was going on! 

 

I raced down the halls until I found myself at the entrance to my grandfather's office. I opened my mouth and spoke the password but all that came out was a mewling sound. I sat back on my hind legs abruptly as I realized that I had no way of speaking in my current form. I paced back and forth before the gargoyle, a low growling noise emitting from the back of my throat. Stone eyes followed my every movement, but no matter how much I scratched and clawed at the figure, the way remained blocked.

I had been attempting to claw my way through for nearly an hour with no success before I finally hung my head and was about to give up - when the staircase suddenly started moving on its own. At first, I howled in triumph as I thought I had managed to wear the gargoyle down, but I quickly realized that it was nothing that I had done, but rather, someone exiting. I backed away slowly, my tail unconsciously wrapping around me until I realized it was grandfather who was coming towards me.

I tried to call out to him before remembering yet again that I couldn't talk. I skidded up to my grandfather and tugged at the bottom of his robes. He looked down at me and I watched his eyes widen in shock as he recognized the familiar blue gaze staring back at him. 

"Is that you little one?" He said, bending down to look at me more closely. 

I howled and nodded my head furiously up and down. Without another word, my grandfather pulled out his wand and muttered a spell. 

My surroundings spun and I closed my eyes against the nausea. When I opened them again, the world seemed normal and I sighed in relief.

"What the bloody hell was that!" 

"It appears, young one, that you are an animagus," grandfather said, chuckling under his breath. 

I stared at him in shock. "You mean a wizard who can transform into an animal? I thought that was really advanced magic?"

"It is," grandfather stated. "I was just on my way out for an evening walk under the stars, care to join me?"

I blinked and smiled as I nodded. I hadn't been able to hang out much with Dumbledore since I first came to Hogwarts so I was going to take any chance that I could get. I pulled out my own wand and sent my broom and robes back to my room. Another wave of my wand and a comfy sweater wrapped around me.

As we walked around the lake and gazed up at the stars, I told grandfather all about classes. But once I started, I couldn't stop and soon I was telling him everything about my strange new powers and even about how Harry had been acting differently and what the boggart had turned into. 

Dumbledore didn't interrupt; just walked next to me and let me get it all out. He wasn't a man of many words and I hadn't really expected him to have any answers. But I did want to know more about what had just happened. How could I suddenly have turned into a lion? Well, a lion cub to be more precise. It was so bizarre, not to mention ironic. 

My grandfather said that I must have been feeling some very strong emotions for the power of transformation to have been pulled out of me the way it was (the one thing I hadn't told him about was what had caused the transformation. I needed to learn how to handle people like Pansy on my own otherwise I'd forever be relying on others). He did make me promise to keep my powers a secret for as long as I could - though Ron, Hermione, and Harry he said would be fine.

We silently walked back to the castle hand in hand before parting to go to our rooms. Before going to sleep that night, I sat cross-legged on my bed and closed my eyes. As hard as I tried though, I couldn't transform again and eventually I passed out from exhaustion.

********************************************

"First Hogsmeade weekend," said Ron, pointing at a notice that had appeared on the battered old bulletin board. "End of October. Halloween."

"Excellent," I heard Fred say. "I need to visit Zonko's. I'm nearly out of Stink Pellets."

I watched as Harry threw himself into a chair beside Ron, his high spirits clearly ebbing away. Hermione seemed to notice as well. 

"Harry, I'm sure you'll be able to go next time," she said. "They're bound to catch Black soon. He's been sighted once already."

"Black's not fool enough to try anything in Hogsmeade," said Ron. "Ask McGonagall if you can go this time, Harry. The next one might not be for ages -"

"Ron!" said Hermione. "Harry's supposed to stay in school -"

"He can't be the only third year left behind," said Ron. "Ask McGonagall, go on, Harry -"

"Yeah, I think I will," said Harry. I frowned at him, knowing that Minnie would never let him go without a signed permission slip. I was just lucky that Sev had been able to sign mine since grandfather was still trying to keep our connection a secret.

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but at that moment Crookshanks leapt lightly onto her lap. A large, dead spider was dangling from his mouth.

"Does he have to eat that in front of us?" said Ron, scowling.

"Clever Crookshanks, did you catch that all by yourself?" said Hermione.

"Just keep him over there, that's all," said Ron irritably, turning back to his star chart. "I've got Scabbers asleep in my bag."

"You can copy mine, if you like," said Ron, labeling his last star with a flourish and shoving the chart toward Harry.

Hermione and I pursed our lips in disapproval but didn't say anything. Crookshanks was still staring unblinkingly at Ron, flicking the end of his bushy tail. Then, without warning, he pounced.

"OY!" Ron roared, seizing his bag as Crookshanks sank four sets of claws deep inside it and began tearing ferociously. "GET OFF, YOU STUPID ANIMAL!"

Ron tried to pull the bag away from Crookshanks, but Crookshanks clung on, spitting and slashing.

"Ron, don't hurt him!" squealed Hermione; the whole common room was watching; Ron whirled the bag around, Crookshanks still clinging to it, and Scabbers came flying out of the top -

"CATCH THAT CAT!" Ron yelled as Crookshanks freed himself from the remnants of the bag, sprang over the table, and chased after the terrified Scabbers.

George made a lunge for Crookshanks but missed; Scabbers streaked through twenty pairs of legs and shot beneath an old chest of drawers. Crookshanks skidded to a halt, crouched low on his bandy legs, and started making furious swipes beneath it with his front paw.

Ron and Hermione rushed over while Harry and I watched on; Hermione grabbed Crookshanks around the middle and heaved him away; Ron threw himself onto his stomach and, with great difficulty, pulled Scabbers out by the tail.

"Look at him!" he said furiously to Hermione, dangling Scabbers in front of her. "He's skin and bone! You keep that cat away from him!"

"Crookshanks doesn't understand it's wrong!" said Hermione, her voice shaking. "All cats chase rats, Ron!"

"There's something funny about that animal!" said Ron, who was trying to persuade a frantically wiggling Scabbers back into his pocket. "It heard me say that Scabbers was in my bag!"

"Oh, what rubbish," said Hermione impatiently. "Crookshanks could smell him, Ron, how else d'you think -"

"That cat's got it in for Scabbers!" said Ron, ignoring the people around him, who were starting to giggle. "And Scabbers was here first, and he's ill!"

Ron marched through the common room and out of sight up the stairs to the boys' dormitories.

I glanced over at Harry, still giggling but I stopped as I saw that strange expression on his face again. I finished up my own star chart as fast as I could, said a quick goodbye to Hermione, and dashed off to my room.

********************************************

Ron was still in a bad mood with Hermione next day. He barely talked to her all through Herbology, even though he, Harry, and Hermione were working together on the same Puffapod. I had partnered myself with Draco again and watched them from across the table.

"How's Scabbers?" Hermione asked timidly as we all stripped fat pink pods from the plants and emptied the shining beans into a wooden pail.

"He's hiding at the bottom of my bed, shaking," said Ron angrily, missing the pail and scattering beans over the greenhouse floor.

"Careful, Weasley, careful!" cried Professor Sprout as the beans burst into bloom before their very eyes.

We had Transfiguration next. Harry spent the entire class trying to figure out what he was going to say to Minnie  when the bell rang at the end of the lesson, but it was she who brought up the subject of Hogsmeade first.

"One moment, please!" she called as the class made to leave. "As you're all in my House, you should hand Hogsmeade permission forms to me before Halloween. No form, no visiting the village, so don't forget!"

Neville put up his hand.

"Please, Professor, I - I think I've lost -"

"Your grandmother sent yours to me directly, Longbottom," said Professor McGonagall. "She seemed to think it was safer. Well, that's all, you may leave."

"Ask her now," Ron hissed at Harry.

"Oh. but -" Hermione began.

"Go for it, Harry," said Ron stubbornly.

Harry waited for the rest of the class to disappear, then headed nervously for Professor McGonagall's desk.

"Yes, Potter?" Harry took a deep breath.

"Professor, my aunt and uncle - er -forgot to sign my form," he said.

Professor McGonagall looked over her square spectacles at him but didn't say anything.

"So - er - d'you think it would be all right mean, will It be okay if I - if I go to Hogsmeade?"

********************************************

"There's always the feast," said Ron, in an effort to cheer Harry up. As I had known, Minnie had said no. "You know, the Halloween feast, in the evening."

"Yeah," said Harry gloomily, "great."

"We'll bring you lots of sweets back from Honeydukes," said Hermione, looking desperately sorry for him.

"Yeah, loads," said Ron. He and Hermione had finally forgotten their squabble about Crookshanks in the face of Harry's difficulties.

"I'll stay here and keep you company, Harry!" I offered, already knowing his answer.

"Don't worry about me," said Harry, in what he hoped was an offhand voice, "I'll see you at the feast. Have a good time."

He accompanied us to the entrance hall, where Filch, the caretaker, was standing inside the front doors, checking off names against a long list, peering suspiciously into every face, and making sure that no one was sneaking out who shouldn't be going.

"Staying here, Potter?" shouted Draco, who was standing in line with Crabbe and Goyle. "Scared of passing the Dementors?"

Harry ignored him as I elbowed my blond haired friend and watched as he made his solitary way up the marble staircase, through the hallways and up to the Gryffindor tower.

Hermione, Ron, and I glanced back at Harry one last time before setting off for Hogsmead. We visited the Shrieking Shack, Zonkos Joke Shop, and eventually ended at the Three Broomsticks. On our way in, I noticed a familiar black shape hiding in the shadows and waved my friends on as I stopped to say hello. 

The black dog from Diagon Alley slowly crept towards me as I bent low to greet him. I sifted through my pockets and picked out the biggest treats I could find.

"I'm sorry it's not much..." I apologized as I set the treats in front of the dog. He wagged his tail and licked my face in thanks before gobbling them up and disappearing into the shadows. I sighed and joined Ron and Hermione inside. As we sipped our butterbeers, I told them about my animagus transformation; though I made them promise not to tell Harry. He clearly had other things on his mind... 

********************************************

"There you go," said Ron. "We got as much as we could carry."

A shower of brilliantly colored sweets fell into Harry's lap. It was dusk, and Ron, Hermione and I had just turned up in the common room, pink-faced from the cold wind.

"Thanks," said Harry, picking up a packet of tiny black Pepper Imps. "What's Hogsmeade like? Where did you go?"

We told him about going to Dervish and Banges, the wizarding equipment shop, Zonko's Joke Shop, into the Three Broomsticks for foaming mugs of hot butterbeer, and the many other places.

"The post office, Harry! About two hundred owls, all sitting on shelves, all color-coded depending on how fast you want your letter to get there!"

"Honeydukes has got a new kind of fudge; they were giving out free samples, there's a bit, look -"

"We think we saw an ogre, honestly, they get all sorts at the Three Broomsticks -"

"Wish we could have brought you some butterbeer, really warms you up -"

"What did you do?" said Hermione, looking anxious. "Did you get any work done?"

"No," said Harry. "Lupin made me a cup of tea in his office. And then Snape came in..."

He told us all about the goblet. Ron's mouth fell open.

"Lupin drank it?" he gasped. "Is he mad?"

Hermione checked her watch.

"We'd better go down, you know, the feast'll be starting in five minutes. We hurried through the portrait hole and into the crowd, still discussing Snape.

"But if he - you know -" Hermione dropped her voice, glancing nervously around, "if he was trying to - to poison Lupin - he wouldn't have done it in front of Harry." I rolled my eyes at yet another conclusion that put Snape in the villain role but kept my mouth shut.

"Yeah, maybe," said Harry as they reached the entrance hall and crossed into the Great Hall. It had been decorated with hundreds and hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling like brilliant watersnakes.

The food was delicious; even Hermione and Ron, who were full to bursting with Honeydukes sweets, managed second helpings of everything. Harry kept glancing at the staff table. Professor Lupin looked cheerful and as well as he ever did; he was talking animatedly to tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher. 

The feast finished with an entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. They popped out of the walls and tables to do a bit of formation gliding; Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had a great success with a reenactment of his own botched beheading.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I followed the rest of the Gryffindors along the usual path to Gryffindor Tower, but when we reached the corridor that ended with the portrait of the Fat Lady, we found it jammed with students.

"Why isn't anyone going in?" said Ron curiously.

Harry peered over the heads in front of us. The portrait seemed to be closed.

"Let me through, please," came Percy's voice, and he came bustling importantly through the crowd. "What's the holdup here? You can't all have forgotten the password - excuse me, I'm Head Boy -"

And then a silence fell over the crowd, from the front first, so that a chill seemed to spread down the corridor. I heard Percy say, in a suddenly sharp voice, "Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick."

People's heads turned; those at the back were standing on tiptoe.

"What's going on?" said Ginny, who had just arrived.

A moment later, my grandfather was there, sweeping toward the portrait; the Gryffindors squeezed together to let him through, and Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I moved closer to see what the trouble was.

"Oh, my -" I grabbed Harry's arm. He looked at me and my eyes widened as I dropped my hand; my cheeks turning red.

The Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor; great chunks of it had been torn away completely. Dumbledore took one quick look at the ruined painting and turned, his eyes somber, to see Professors McGonagall, Lupin, and Snape hurrying toward him.

"We need to find her," said Dumbledore. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."

"You'll be lucky!" said a cackling voice.

It was Peeves the Poltergeist, bobbing over the crowd and looking delighted, as he always did, at the sight of wreckage or worry.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" said Dumbledore calmly, and Peeves's grin faded a little. He didn't dare taunt Dumbledore. Instead he adopted an oily voice that was no better than his cackle. "Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he said happily. "Poor thing." he added unconvincingly.

"Did she say who did it?" said Dumbledore quietly.

"Oh yes, Professorhead," said Peeves, with the air of one cradling a large bombshell in his arms. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see." Peeves flipped over and grinned at Dumbledore from between his own legs. "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."

********************************************

AN - Hey everyone, so sorry for the long delay! I had finals and then writer's block. I was stuck trying to find the best way to introduce Kat's animagus form; I hope y'all liked how it turned out! I'm also working on trying to incorporate more Kat and Dumbledore scenes as was requested :) now that it's summer I should be able to write more!


	47. Gryffindor v. ?

Katrina's POV

Grandfather sent all the Gryffindors and myself back to the Great Hall, where we were joined ten minutes later by the students from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin, who all looked extremely confused.

"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Dumbledore told them as Minnie and Flitwick closed all doors into the hall. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately," he added to Percy, who was looking immensely proud and important. "Send word with one of the ghosts."

I watched as grandfather paused, about to leave the hall, and said, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing..."

One casual wave of his wand and the long tables flew to the edges of the hall and stood themselves against the walls; another wave, and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.

"Sleep well," said Dumbledore, closing the door behind him.

The hall immediately began to buzz excitedly; the Gryffindors were telling the rest of the school what had just happened. I sat next to Hermione; across from Harry and Ron, and just listened numbly to the chatter around me. 

"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" shouted Percy. "Come on, now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"

"C'mon," Ron said to Harry, Hermione, and I; we seized four sleeping bags and dragged them into a corner.

"Do you think Black's still in the castle?" Hermione whispered anxiously.

"Dumbledore obviously thinks he might be," said Ron.

"It's very lucky he picked tonight, you know," said Hermione as we climbed fully dressed into our sleeping bags and propped ourselves on our elbows to talk. "The one night we weren't in the tower..."

"I reckon he's lost track of time, being on the run," said Ron. "Didn't realize it was Halloween. Otherwise he'd have come bursting in here."

Hermione shuddered.

All around us, people were asking one another the same question: "How did he get in?"

"Maybe he knows how to Apparate," said a Ravenclaw a few feet away, "Just appear out of thin air, you know."

"Disguised himself, probably," said a Hufflepuff fifth year.

"He could've flown in," suggested Dean Thomas.

"Honestly, Hermione, are you and I the only two people who've ever bothered to read Hogwarts, A History?" I muttered crossly and causing my friends to laugh.

"Probably," said Ron. "Why?"

"Because the castle's protected by more than walls, you know, there are all sorts of enchantments on it, to stop people entering by stealth..." Hermione started to explain.

"...you can't just Apparate in here. And I'd like to see the disguise that could fool those Dementors. They're guarding every single entrance to the grounds. They'd have seen him fly in too. And Filch knows all the secret passages, they'll have them covered," I finished for her. We'd been spending so much time together what with all of our classes that we had begun to finish each other's sentences. 

"The lights are going out now!" Percy shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"

The candles all went out at once. The only light now came from the silvery ghosts, who were drifting about talking seriously to the prefects, and the enchanted ceiling, which, like the sky outside, was scattered with stars. What with that, and the whispering that still filled the hall, I felt as though I was sleeping outdoors in a light wind.

I glanced over to find Harry staring at me with curiosity written across his face.

"What, do I have something on my face?" I said self-consciously as I raised my hand to my cheek.

"No, you look as beautiful as ever, it's just something Malfoy said in Potions class the other day...I think he thinks Black is after you but I can't understand why he'd be interested in you..." Harry broke off as we both realized what he'd just said.

"Wow, tonight must be my lucky night! You hardly speak to me for weeks and when you finally do, it's to randomly compliment me then immediately tell me I'm uninteresting and of no importance," I said as I rolled my eyes at him; half joking, half serious.

Harry's eyes widened as he hurriedly tried to climb out of the grave he'd just dug for himself. "I didn't...I mean I just meant that...of course you're interesting...I-I know I haven't said much lately...I'm just...confused..." he finished lamely. 

I sat up a little taller and looked over at him more closely. "Confused about what, Harry?"

"...everything," he finally answered after a long pause.

"Well yes, yes I can see how that might be confusing. Totally clears that up! Anything else bothering you while you're at it?" I asked, my voice laced with sarcasm. I tried to look serious but failed miserably and for the first time in what felt like forever, I found myself laughing with my best friend again. I was about to slide over closer to him so that we could sleep next to each other when his face went all weird again. 

"Ugh, why are boys so confused and confusing?" I growled softly to Hermione as she slid into my sleeping bag and linked arms with me.

"If I knew the answer to that, I'd be rich, not slumming it with you in a sleeping bag in the middle of the Great Hall." We giggled until Percy stomped over to us and shouted at us for being too loud.

"Perce, you do know that by shouting, you are, in fact, making more noise than we were?" I said, batting my eyes innocently up at him. He glared at me and opened his mouth to respond before turning around and stalking off in the opposite direction. Hermione and I looked at each other and burst into quiet giggles again. We spread out on our backs, arms still linked, and whispered to each other. Eventually we ended up pointing to random students and coming up with the most bizarre predictions about what they were dreaming about. 

"I don't know what Professor Trelawney was talking about Hermione, your predictions are probably way more accurate than hers!" We chuckled and continued our game; pausing whenever Percy got close.

Once every hour, a teacher would reappear in the Hall to check that everything was quiet. Around three in the morning, when many students had finally fallen asleep, I saw grandfather  come in. I watched him looking around for Percy, who had been prowling between the sleeping bags, telling more students off for talking. Percy was only a short way away from the four of us and we all quickly pretended to be asleep as Dumbledore's footsteps drew nearer.

"Any sign of him, Professor?" asked Percy in a whisper.

"No. All well here?"

"Everything under control, sir."

"Good. There's no point moving them all now. I've found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You'll be able to move them back in tomorrow."

"And the Fat Lady, sir?"

"Hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently she refused to let Black in without the password, so he attacked. She's still very distressed, but once she's calmed down, I'll have Mr Filch restore her."

I heard the door of the hall creak open again, and more footsteps.

"Headmaster?" It was Sev. I kept quite still, listening hard. "The whole of the third floor has been searched. He's not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there either."

"What about the Astronomy tower? Professor Trelawney's room? The Owlery?"

"All searched...he didn't go near her room either, thank Merlin for that."

"Very well, Severus. I didn't really expect Black to linger."

"Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?" asked Snape.

I raised my head very slightly off my arms to free my other ear.

"Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next."

I opened my eyes a fraction and squinted up to where they stood; grandfather's back was to me, but I could see Percy's face, rapt with attention, and Snape's profile, which looked angry.

"You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before - ah - the start of term?" said Snape, who was barely opening his lips, as though trying to block Percy out of the conversation.

"I do, Severus," said Dumbledore, and there was something like warning in his voice.

"It seems - almost impossible - that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed -"

"I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it," said Dumbledore, and his tone made it so clear that the subject was closed that Snape didn't reply. "I must go down to the Dementors," said Dumbledore. "I said I would inform them when our search was complete."

"Didn't they want to help, sir?" said Percy.

"Oh yes," said Dumbledore coldly. "But I'm afraid no Dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am Headmaster."

Percy looked slightly abashed. Grandfather left the hall, walking quickly and quietly. Snape stood for a moment, watching the headmaster with an expression of deep resentment on his face; then he too left.

I glanced sideways at Hermione, than to Ron and Harry. They all had their eyes open too, reflecting the starry ceiling.

"What was all that about?" Ron mouthed. I saw Harry whisper something to Ron and strained to hear what he said but I was too far away.

("What did Snape mean Black didn't go near 'her' room?" was what Harry asked Ron.)

********************************************

The school talked of nothing but Sirius Black for the next few days. The theories about how he had entered the castle became wilder and wilder; Hermione and I just shook our heads at the stupidity of it all. Neither of us could figure out how he had done it either, but at least we weren't shouting out random suggestions that would never have been possible!

The Fat Lady's ripped canvas had been taken off the wall and replaced with the portrait of Sir Cadogan and his fat gray pony. Nobody was very happy about this. Sir Cadogan spent half his time challenging people to duels, and the rest thinking up ridiculously complicated passwords, which he changed at least twice a day. For the first and only time in my life I was thankful that I didn't have a dorm in Gryffindor Tower. 

"He's a complete lunatic," said Seamus Finnigan angrily to Percy. "Can't we get anyone else?"

"None of the other pictures wanted the job," said Percy. "Frightened of what happened to the Fat Lady. Sir Cadogan was the only one brave enough to volunteer."

Ron wasn't talking to Hermione and since Harry wasn't talking to me, the two of us spent our afternoons either in the library or in my room. 

Sir Cadogan, however, was the least of my worries. Along with Harry, I was now being closely watched. Teachers found excuses to walk along corridors with me, and Percy Weasley (acting, I suspected, on his mother's orders) was tailing Harry and I everywhere like an extremely pompous guard dog. I could understand why they were following Harry, but why I received the same treatment baffled me. To cap it all, Professor McGonagall summoned Harry and I into her office, with such a somber expression on her face I thought someone must have died.

"There's no point hiding it from you any longer, Potter, Katrina dear." she said in a very serious voice. "I know this will come as a shock to you, but Sirius Black -"

"I know he's after me," said Harry wearily. "I heard Ron's dad telling his mum. Mr. Weasley works for the Ministry of Magic."

Minnie seemed very taken aback. She stared at Harry for a moment or two, then said, "I see! Well, in that case, you'll understand why I don't think it's a good idea for either of you two to be -"

"What on earth does this have to do with me though?" I burst out in irritation at the lack of answers I had been getting lately and not caring that I was interrupting her.

Minnie looked at me and sighed. "He's after you too."

"Me? Why?" I looked from Harry to Minnie in surprise.

"One can only guess...we assume for the same reason he's after Harry. To finish what he started 13 years ago. As I was saying, you'll understand why I do not think you two should be practicing Quidditch in the evenings. Out on the field with only your team members, it's very exposed -"

"We've got our first match on Saturday!" said Harry and I together, both outraged. "We've got to train, Professor!"

Minnie considered us intently. "Hmm...Well...goodness knows, I'd like to see us win the Cup at last...but all the same, I'd be happier if a teacher were present. I'll ask Madam Hooch to oversee your training sessions."

As I exited Minnie's office, I looked back at her; sensing that there was still something that she wasn't telling me. I had the sneaking suspicion that there was something else going on with Sirius Black that no one was telling me...

********************************************

The weather worsened steadily as our first Quidditch match drew nearer. Undaunted, the Gryffindor team was training harder than ever under the eye of Madam Hooch. Then, at the final training session before Saturday's match, Oliver Wood delivered some unwelcome news.

"We're not playing Slytherin!" he told us, looking very angry. "Flint's just been to see me. We're playing Hufflepuff instead."

"Why?" Asked Fred and George together.

"Flint's excuse is that their Seeker injured his arm," said Wood, grinding his teeth furiously. (Ok I know that seems a little lame but I completely forgot that changing Kat to being the one who was injured would affect this part so yeah...deal with it lol) "But it's obvious why they're doing it. Don't want to play in this weather. Think it'll damage their chances..."

There had been strong winds and heavy rain all day, and as Wood spoke, we heard a distant rumble of thunder.

"There's nothing wrong with Malfoy's arm!" said Harry furiously. "He's faking it!"

"I know that, but we can't prove it," said Wood bitterly, "And we've been practicing all those moves assuming we're playing Slytherin, and instead it's Hufflepuff, and their style's quite different. They've got a new Captain and Seeker, Cedric Diggory -"

Angelina, Alicia, and I suddenly giggled.

"What?" said Wood, frowning at our lighthearted behavior.

"He's that tall, good-looking one, isn't he?" said Angelina.

"Strong and silent," said Alicia, and we started to giggle again.

I noticed Harry glancing at me and clenching his fists tight. He saw me looking and turned away but not before I saw a glint of irritation in his eyes. 

"He's only silent because he's too thick to string two words together," said Fred impatiently. "I don't know why you're worried, Oliver, Hufflepuff is a pushover. Last time we played them, Harry caught the Snitch in about five minutes, remember?"

"We were playing in completely different conditions!" Wood shouted, his eyes bulging slightly. "Diggory's put a very strong side together! He's an excellent Seeker! I was afraid you'd take it like this! We mustn't relax! We must keep our focus! Slytherin is trying to wrong-foot us! We must win!"

"Oliver, calm down!" said Fred, looking slightly alarmed. "We're taking Hufflepuff very seriously. Seriously."

The day before the match, the winds reached howling point and the rain fell harder than ever. It was so dark inside the corridors and classrooms that extra torches and lanterns were lit. The Slytherin team was looking very smug indeed, and none more so than Draco.

"Ah, if only my arm was feeling a bit better!" he sighed as the gale outside pounded the windows.

I had no room in my head to worry about anything except the match tomorrow. Oliver Wood kept hurrying up to Harry and I between classes and giving us tips. The third time this happened, Wood talked for so long that we were ten minutes late for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Sorry we're late, Professor Lupin. We -"

But it wasn't Professor Lupin who looked up at us from the teacher's desk; it was my godfather.

"This lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter, so I think we'll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down." I saw Harry once more turn to glare at me as we both noticed how Sev skipped over the fact that I had also been late. I went to go join Hermione and sat down with my head low as I felt the sting of Harry's glare still on my back.

But Harry didn't move.

"Where's Professor Lupin?" he said.

"He says he is feeling too ill to teach today," said Snape with a twisted smile. "I believe I told you to sit down?"

But Harry stayed where he was.

"What's wrong with him?"

Snape's black eyes glittered.

"Nothing life-threatening," he said, looking as though he wished it were. "Five more points from Gryffindor, and if I have to ask you to sit down again, it will be fifty."

Harry walked slowly to his seat and sat down. Snape looked around at the class.

"As I was saying before Potter interrupted, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far -"

"Please, sir, we've done Boggarts, Red Caps, Kappas, and Grindylows," said Hermione quickly, "and we're just about to start --"

"Be quiet," said Snape coldly. "I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organization."

"He's the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had," said Dean Thomas boldly, and there was a murmur of agreement from the rest of the class. Snape looked more menacing than ever.

"You are easily satisfied. Lupin is hardly overtaxing you - I would expect first years to be able to deal with Red Caps and Grindylows. Today we shall discuss -"

We watched him flick through the textbook, to the very back chapter, which he must know we hadn't covered.

"- werewolves," said Snape.

"But, sir," said Hermione, seemingly unable to restrain herself, "we're not supposed to do werewolves yet, we're due to start Hinkypunks -"

"Miss Granger," said Snape in a voice of deadly calm, "I was under the impression that I am teaching this lesson, not you. And I am telling you all to turn to page 394." He glanced around again. "All of you! Now!"

With many bitter sidelong looks and some sullen muttering, we opened our books.

"Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?" said Snape.

Everyone sat in motionless silence; everyone except Hermione, whose hand, as it so often did, had shot straight into the air. I knew the answer as well but I preferred to let Hermione answer questions in class. I hated having that many eyes on me.

"Anyone?" Snape said, ignoring Hermione. His twisted smile was back. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between -"

"We told you," said Parvati suddenly, "we haven't got as far as werewolves yet, we're still on --"

"Silence!" snarled Snape. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are..."

"Please, sir," said Hermione, whose hand was still in the air, "the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf -"

"That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger," said Snape coolly. "Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."

Hermione went very red, put down her hand, and stared at the floor with her eyes full of tears. I reached over and held her hand under the desk trying to offer what comfort I could. 

It was a mark of how much the class loathed Snape that they were all glaring at him; because every one of them had called Hermione a know-it-all at least once, and Ron, who told Hermione she was a know-it-all at least twice a week, said loudly, "You asked us a question and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don't want to be told?"

I knew instantly he'd gone too far. Snape advanced on Ron slowly, and the room held its breath.

"Detention, Weasley," Snape said silkily, his face very close to Ron's. "And if I ever hear you criticize the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed."

No one made a sound throughout the rest of the lesson. We sat and made notes on werewolves from the textbook, while Snape prowled up and down the rows of desks, examining the work we had been doing with Professor Lupin.

"Very poorly explained...That is incorrect, the Kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia...Professor Lupin gave this eight out of ten? I wouldn't have given it three..."

When the bell rang at last, Snape held us back.

"You will each write an essay, to be handed in to me, on the ways you recognize and kill werewolves. I want two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning. It is time somebody took this class in hand. Weasley, stay behind, we need to arrange your detention."

Harry, Hermione, and I left the room with the rest of the class, who waited until they were well out of earshot, then burst into a furious tirade about Snape.

I lowered my head and kept my mouth shut. While I hadn't agreed with the way Sev had acted, he WAS still my godfather and I refused to speak ill of the man who had taken me in for the summer and treated me like family.

Ron caught up with us five minutes later, in a towering rage.

"D'you know what that -" he called Snape something that made Hermione and I say "Ron!") "- is making me do? I've got to scrub out the bedpans in the hospital wing. Without magic!" He was breathing deeply, his fists clenched. "Why couldn't Black have hidden in Snape's office, eh? He could have finished him off for us!"

I elbowed him and glared furiously at him. We stood there not blinking until Hermione pulled me down the hall; Harry tugging on Ron.

********************************************

"It's going to be a tough one," said Wood, who wasn't eating anything the next morning.

"Stop worrying, Oliver," said Alicia soothingly, "we don't mind a bit of rain."

But it was considerably more than a bit of rain. Such was the popularity of Quidditch that the whole school turned out to watch the match as usual, but they ran down the lawns toward the Quidditch field, heads bowed against the ferocious wind, umbrellas being whipped out of their hands as they went. 

We changed into our scarlet robes and waited for Wood's usual pre-match pep talk, but it didn't come. He tried to speak several times, made an odd gulping noise, then shook his head hopelessly and beckoned us to follow him.

The wind was so strong that we staggered sideways as we walked out onto the field. If the crowd was cheering, I couldn't hear it over the fresh rolls of thunder. 

The Hufflepuffs were approaching from the opposite side of the field, wearing canary-yellow robes. The Captains walked up to each other and shook hands; Diggory smiled at Wood but Wood now looked as though he had lockjaw and merely nodded. Then he glanced over at me and winked! I blushed and giggled as out of the corner of my eye, I saw Harry grinding his teeth. What was his problem?!

I then saw Madam Hooch's mouth form the words, "Mount Your brooms." I pulled my right foot out of the mud with a squelch and swung it over my Nimbus Two Thousand. Madam Hooch put her whistle to her lips and gave it a blast that sounded shrill and distant - we were off.

I rose fast, but my Nimbus was swerving slightly with the wind. I held it as steady as I could and turned, squinting into the rain.

Within five minutes I was soaked to my skin and frozen, hardly able to see my teammates. I flew backward and forward across the field past blurred red and yellow shapes, and tried my best to score when I could. Twice I came very close to being unseated by a Bludger; but I narrowly managed to dodge them.

I lost track of time. It was getting harder and harder to hold my broom straight. The sky was getting darker, as though night had decided to come early.

With the first flash of lightning came the sound of Madam Hooch's whistle; I could just see the outline of Wood through the thick rain, gesturing him to the ground. The whole team splashed down into the mud.

"I called for time-out!" Wood roared at us. "Come on, under here -"

We huddled at the edge of the field under a large umbrella; Harry took off his glasses and wiped them hurriedly on his robes.

"What's the score?" I heard him ask.

"We're fifty points up," said Wood, "but unless we get the Snitch soon, we'll be playing into the night."

"I've got no chance with these on," Harry said exasperatedly, waving his glasses.

"Oh, honestly, Harry! Give them here!" I rolled my eyes and stuck out my hand.

He handed them to me, and as the team watched in amazement, I tapped them with my wand and said, "Impervius!"

"There!" I said, handing them back to Harry. "They'll repel water!"

Wood looked as though he could have kissed me.

"Brilliant!" he called out to me; pulling me into a hug and pecking my cheek, causing my face to redden for the second time. "Okay, team, let's go for it!"

We rose into the air and the game continued. I swerved, dodged, and raced back and forth across the field as I did my best to get a hold of the quaffle.

There was another clap of thunder, followed immediately by forked lightning. This was getting more and more dangerous. Just then, I noticed one of the Hufflepuff chasers fly past me; quaffle in hand.

I turned, intending to give chase, but at that moment, another flash of lightning illuminated the stands, and I saw something that distracted me completely, the silhouette of an enormous shaggy black dog, clearly imprinted against the sky, motionless in the topmost, empty row of seats.

My numb hands slipped on the broom handle and my Nimbus dropped a few feet. Shaking my sodden bangs out of my eyes, I squinted back into the stands. The dog had vanished.

"Kat!" came Wood's anguished yell from the Gryffindor goal posts. 

I looked wildly around. The chaser I had spotted was pelting up the field, dangerously close to scoring.

With a jolt of panic, I threw myself flat to the broom handle and zoomed towards the figure.

"Come on!" I growled at my Nimbus as the rain whipped my face. "Faster!"

But something odd was happening. An eerie silence was falling across the stadium. The wind, though as strong as ever, was forgetting to roar. It was as though someone had turned off the sound, as though I had gone suddenly deaf - what was going on?

And then a horribly familiar wave of cold swept over me, inside me, just as I became aware of something moving on the field below...

Before I had time to think, I had taken my eyes off the Quaffle and looked down.

At least a hundred Dementors, their hidden faces pointing up at me, were standing beneath me. It was as though freezing water were rising in my chest, cutting at my insides. And then I heard it again...Someone was screaming, screaming inside my head...a woman...

"Not Kat, not Kat, please no! You don't understand, she's your -"

"Stand aside, you silly girl...stand aside, now..."

"Not Kat, please no, take me, kill me instead -"

Numbing, swirling white mist was filling my brain...What was I doing? Why was I flying? I needed to help her...She was going to die...She was going to be murdered...

I was falling, falling through the icy mist.

"Not Kat! Please...have mercy...have mercy...how could you, your own -"

A shrill voice was laughing, the woman was screaming, and I knew no more.

********************************************

"Lucky the ground was so soft."

"I thought he was dead for sure."

"But he didn't even break his glasses."

I could hear the voices whispering, but they made no sense whatsoever. I didn't have a clue where I was, or how I'd got there, or what I'd been doing before I got there. All I knew was that every inch of me was aching as though it had been beaten yet again.

"That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life."

Scariest...the scariest thing...hooded black figures...cold...screaming...

My eyes snapped open. I was lying in the hospital wing. The Gryffindor Quidditch team, spattered with mud from head to foot, was gathered around Harry's bed. Ron and Hermione were also there, looking as though they'd just climbed out of a swimming pool. I blinked my eyes to clear the fog and watched nervously until I saw Harry's eyes open and sighed in relief.

"Harry!" said Fred, who looked extremely white underneath, the mud. "How're you feeling?"

"What happened?" he said, sitting up so suddenly they all gasped.

"You fell off," said Fred. "Must've been - what - fifty feet?"

"We thought you'd died," said Alicia, who was shaking.

"But the match," said Harry. "What happened? Are we doing a replay?"

No one said anything. I watched them closely, the horrible truth sinking into me like a stone. I sat up and asked the question before Harry got the chance.

"We didn't - lose?" I groaned a little as my head pounded. Hermione rushed over to my side and flung herself around me. I hugged her back, despite the continued banging in my head as I waited for an answer.

"Diggory got the Snitch," said George. "Just after you two fell. He didn't realize what had happened. When he looked back and saw Harry on the ground, he tried to call it off. Wanted a rematch. But they won fair and square...even Wood admits it."

"Where is Wood?" said Harry, suddenly realizing he wasn't there.

"Still in the showers," said Fred. "We think he's trying to drown himself."

Harry put his face to his knees, his hands gripping his hair. Fred grabbed his shoulder and shook it roughly.

"C'mon, Harry, you've never missed the Snitch before."

"There had to be one time you didn't get it," said George.

"It's not over yet," said Fred. "We lost by a hundred points."

"Right? So if Hufflepuff loses to Ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin..."

"Hufflepuff'll have to lose by at least two hundred points," said George.

"But if they beat Ravenclaw..."

"No way, Ravenclaw is too good. But if Slytherin loses against Hufflepuff..."

"It all depends on the points - a margin of a hundred either way -"

"George, what did you mean, when we fell? What exactly happened and why does my head feel like it got run over by a stampede of angry centaurs!" I asked slowly, still trying to get my bearings. I reached up and felt the bandages that had been wrapped around my head.

"Oh, after Harry fell and Diggory caught the Snitch, we noticed a bludger headed straight towards you. Fred and I tried to intercept it but we were too far away. We watched helplessly as it collided with your pretty little head and knocked you off your broom. As much as I hate that Diggory fellow right now, I will say this, he has good reflexes. He managed to catch you before you hit the ground." Fred and George walked over to my bed and knelt down before me. 

"Can you ever forgive us, little one?"

"For what?" I looked at them in surprise at the pain in their eyes.

"For not being there -" Fred began.

" - to protect you," George finished for his twin.

"Oh, come now! That wasn't your fault! Bludgers knock people off their broom, it's what they do! It's a hazard we all know comes with playing the game."

"Princess, you are like a second sister to us. If anything had happened to you because we weren't there in time...we'd never be able to forgive ourselves..." my eyes widened as I watched the twins choke up with emotion. I felt a strange warm feeling wash over me at their words. Yet they felt wrong.

I reached out and pulled them onto my bed and hugged them fiercely; tears in my eyes. 

"Ginny is lucky to have two such sweet and devoted brothers, but I do not deserve that kind of attention...especially from you..." I swallowed the lump in my throat as I remembered the boggart. The image of the two red-headed twins' bodies burning as they cried out for my help played before my eyes and I hung my head in shame. "And you know I hate that nickname! I'm about as much of a Princess as Filch is!" 

Our bodies shook as the three of us chuckled at my last comment. My head was buried in Fred's shoulder so I didn't see the look the twins shared in response to my denial of their affection.

We sat there on my bed in a mass of limbs until something they said finally registered in my brain.

"Hang on, did you say that Diggory saved me from falling? The Cedric Diggory!" I moaned in embarrassment and my cheeks turned tomato red.

The twins looked at me and groaned. 

"Oh, no Freddy, not our little Princess as well..."

"See something you like, little one?" Fred wiggled his brows up and down suggestively and I yanked the covers up to hide my face. They laughed and pulled them back down before jumping on me and tickling me all over.

After ten minutes or so, Madam Pomfrey came over to tell the team to leave him in peace and the twins finally let me up for a breather as they went back over to Harry's bed.

"We'll come and see you later," Fred told him. "Don't beat yourself up. Harry, you're still the best Seeker we've ever had."

The team trooped out, trailing mud behind them. Madam Pomfrey shut the door behind them, looking disapproving. Ron and Hermione moved to stand in between our beds.

"Dumbledore was really angry," Hermione said in a quaking voice. "I've never seen him like that before. He ran onto the field as you fell, waved his wand, and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his wand at the Dementors. Shot silver stuff at them. They left the stadium right away...He was furious they'd come onto the grounds. We heard him -"

"Then he magicked you onto a stretcher said Ron. "And walked up to school with you floating on it. Cedric was following behind carrying Kat. Everyone thought you were..."

His voice faded, but I hardly noticed. I was thinking about what the Dementors had done to me...about the screaming voice. I looked up and saw Ron and Hermione looking at Harry and I so anxiously that I quickly cast around for something matter-of-fact to say.

"Did someone get our brooms?"

Ron and Hermione looked quickly at each other.

"Er -"

"What?" said Harry and I, looking from one to the other.

"Well...when you fell off, they got blown away," said Hermione hesitantly.

"And?"

"And they hit - they hit - oh, they hit the Whomping Willow."

My insides lurched. The Whomping Willow was a very violent tree that stood alone in the middle of the grounds.

"And?" I said, dreading the answer.

"Well, you know the Whomping Willow," said Ron. "It - it doesn't like being hit."

"Professor Flitwick brought them back just before you came around," said Hermione in a very small voice.

Slowly, she reached down for a bag at her feet, turned it upside down, and tipped a dozen bits of splintered wood and twig onto the beds, the only remains of our faithful, finally beaten broomsticks.


	48. The Maurauder’s Map

Read the last bit to find out a new reveal about Sirius Black! Comment what you think of the turn of events - hope y'all will enjoy.

Katrina's POV

Madam Pomfrey insisted on keeping Harry and I in the hospital wing for the rest of the weekend. We didn't argue or complain, but we also wouldn't let her throw away the shattered remnants of our Nimbus Two Thousands.

We both had a stream of visitors, all intent on cheering us up. Hagrid sent a bunch of earwiggy flowers that looked like yellow cabbages, and Ginny Weasley, blushing furiously, turned up with a get-well card she had made herself, which sang shrilly unless Harry kept it shut under his bowl of fruit. If things had been different between us lately, I would have teased him about it. The Gryffindor team visited again on Sunday morning, this time accompanied by Wood, who told Harry (in a hollow, dead sort of voice) that he didn't blame him in the slightest. Ron and Hermione left our bedsides only at night. But nothing anyone said or did could make us feel any better, because they knew only half of what was troubling us.

Neither of us had told anyone about the Grim, not even Ron and Hermione, because we knew Ron would panic and Hermione would scoff. I wasn't as worried but Harry didn't want them knowing since for him, it had appeared twice, and both appearances had been followed by near-fatal accidents; the first time, he had nearly been run over by the Knight Bus; the second, fallen fifty feet from his broomstick. He worried the Grim was going to haunt him until he actually died. I thought he was overreacting just a bit but then there were the dementors. 

I felt sick and humiliated every time I thought of them. Everyone said the dementors were horrible, but no one but Harry and I collapsed every time they went near one. No one else heard echoes in their head of their dying mother.

Because I knew who that screaming voice belonged to now. I had heard her words, heard them over and over again during the night hours in the hospital wing while I lay awake, staring at the strips of moonlight on the ceiling. When the dementors approached me, I heard the last moments of my mother's life, her attempts to protect me from Lord Voldemort, and Voldemort's laughter before he murdered her... 

I dozed fitfully, sinking into dreams full of clammy, rotted hands and petrified pleading, jerking awake to dwell again on my mother's voice. I could tell Harry wasn't faring any better but he'd made it clear he didn't want my help.

It was a relief to return to the noise and bustle of the main school on Monday, where I was forced to think about other things. Draco had spent much of our  next Potions class doing dementor imitations across the dungeon at Harry; till Ron finally cracked and flung a large, slippery crocodile heart at Draco, which hit him in the face and caused Snape to take fifty points from Gryffindor.

"If Snape's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts again, I'm skiving off," said Ron as they headed toward Lupin's classroom after lunch. "Check who's in there, Hermione."

Hermione peered around the classroom door.

"It's okay!"

Professor Lupin was back at work. It certainly looked as though he had been ill. His old robes were hanging more loosely on him and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes; nevertheless, he smiled at the class as we took our seats, and many burst at once into an explosion of complaints about Snape's behavior while Lupin had been ill.

"It's not fair, he was only filling in, why should he give us homework?"

"We don't know anything about werewolves—"

"—two rolls of parchment!"

"Did you tell Professor Snape we haven't covered them yet?" Lupin asked, frowning slightly.

The babble broke out again.

"Yes, but he said we were really behind—"

"—he wouldn't listen—"

"—two rolls of parchment!"

Professor Lupin smiled at the look of indignation on every face.

"Don't worry. I'll speak to Professor Snape. You don't have to do the essay."

"Oh no," said Hermione and I, looking at each other in disappointment. "We've already finished it!"

We had a very enjoyable lesson. Professor Lupin had brought along a glass box containing a hinkypunk, a little one-legged creature who looked as though he were made of wisps of smoke, rather frail and harmless-looking.

"Lures travelers into bogs," said Professor Lupin as we took notes. "You notice the lantern dangling from his hand? Hops ahead—people follow the light—then—"

The hinkypunk made a horrible squelching noise against the glass.

When the bell rang, everyone gathered up their things and headed for the door, Harry and I among them, but—

"Wait a moment, Harry, Katrina," Lupin called. "I'd like a word."

We doubled back and watched Professor Lupin covering the hinkypunk's box with a cloth.

"I heard about the match," said Lupin, turning back to his desk and starting to pile books into his briefcase, "and I'm sorry about your broomsticks. Is there any chance of fixing them?

"No," said Harry. "The tree smashed them to bits."

Lupin sighed.

"They planted the Whomping Willow the same year that I arrived at Hogwarts. People used to play a game, trying to get near enough to touch the trunk. In the end, a boy called Davey Gudgeon nearly lost an eye, and we were forbidden to go near it. No broomstick would have a chance.

"Did you hear about the dementors too?" said Harry with difficulty.

Lupin looked at us quickly.

"Yes, I did. I don't think any of us have seen Professor Dumbledore that angry. They have been growing restless for some time... furious at his refusal to let them inside the grounds... I suppose they were the reason you two fell?"

"Yes," said Harry. 

"Well technically I got knocked off by a bludger -" I mumbled as Harry opened his mouth to speak again.

"Why? Why do they affect me - us- like that? Am I just—?"

"It has nothing to do with weakness," said Professor Lupin sharply, as though he had read Harry's mind. "The dementors affect you worse than the others because there are horrors in your pasts that the others don't have."

A ray of wintery sunlight fell across the classroom, illuminating Lupin's gray hairs and the lines on his young face.

"Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them. Even Muggles feel their presence, though they can't see them. Get too near a dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself... soul-less and evil. You'll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. And the worst that happened to you, Harry, Katrina, is enough to make anyone fall off their broom. You have nothing to feel ashamed of."

"When they get near me—" Harry stared at Lupin's desk and gulped. "I can hear Voldemort murdering my mum."

"Me too..." I whispered.

Lupin made a sudden motion with his arm as though to grip our shoulders, but thought better of it. There was a moment's silence, then—

"Why did they have to come to the match?" said Harry bitterly.

"They're getting hungry," said Lupin coolly, shutting his briefcase with a snap. "Dumbledore won't let them into the school, so their supply of human prey has dried up...I don't think they could resist the large crowd around the Quidditch field. All that excitement...emotions running high...it was their idea of a feast."

"Azkaban must be terrible," I muttered. Lupin nodded grimly.

"The fortress is set on a tiny island, way out to sea, but they don't need walls and water to keep the prisoners in, not when they're all trapped inside their own heads, incapable of a single cheerful thought. Most of them go mad within weeks."

"But Sirius Black escaped from them," Harry said slowly. "He got away..."

Lupin's briefcase slipped from the desk; he had to stoop quickly to catch it.

"Yes," he said, straightening up, "Black must have found a way to fight them. I wouldn't have believed it possible... Dementors are supposed to drain a wizard of his powers if he is left with them too long..."

"You made that dementor on the train back off," I said suddenly.

"There are—certain defenses one can use," said Lupin. "But there was only one dementor on the train. The more there are, the more difficult it becomes to resist."

"What defenses?" said Harry at once. "Can you teach me?"

"Us," I corrected.

"I don't pretend to be an expert at fighting dementors, quite the contrary..."

"But if the dementors come to another Quidditch match, we need to be able to fight them—" I said.

Lupin looked into our determined faces, hesitated, then said, "Well...all right. I'll try and help. But it'll have to wait until next term, I'm afraid. I have a lot to do before the holidays. I chose a very inconvenient time to fall ill." Harry left the room and I looked at Lupin closely as I walked over to him.

"I know what you are, Professor...I'm...I'm so sorry. I wish there was something I could do..."

Lupin looked at me sharply. "Wha-how, no idea what you're talking about..." Lupin sputtered.

"For the record, I don't care - you're still one of my favorite teachers," I whispered in his ear as I gave him a quick hug before dashing out of the room.

********************************************

What with the promise of anti-dementor lessons from Lupin, the thought that I might never have to hear my mother's death again, and the fact that Ravenclaw flattened Hufflepuff in their Quidditch match at the end of November, my mood took a definite upturn. Gryffindor were not out of the running after all, although they could not afford to lose another match. Wood became repossessed of his manic energy, and worked the team as hard as ever in the chilly haze of rain that persisted into December. I saw no hint of a dementor within the grounds. Grandfather's anger seemed to be keeping them at their stations at the entrances.

I was walking back to my room after practice one evening when I heard footsteps approaching down the corridor. Fearing it was Pansy again, I ducked down and cowered behind one of the suits of armor.

I held my breath as the footsteps got closer and closer.

"Kat? Is that you?" I heard a male voice say. I slowly peered my head out from behind the suit and found myself staring into the warm gaze of Cedric Diggory. I blushed as he reached a hand out and helped me too my feet.

"What were you doing down there?" He asked, chuckling under his breath.

"Um...nothing, I just thought...doesn't matter," I mumbled looking down at the floor and twisting my hands in my robes.

"Just thought what?"

"It really doesn't matter..."

"It clearly matters to you, therefore it matters to me," Cedric stated firmly as he held my gaze.

"It's nothing really I just, just thought you were Pansy..." I mumbled to the floor as I shifted uncomfortably.

"You thought I was that Parkinson girl, so you hid behind a suit of armor? Why would you think I was her? And why hide?" 

I shifted again and stayed silent, not knowing what to say.

The next thing I knew, a soft hand was lifting my chin up and I found myself lost in hazel eyes (I can't remember what color so just gonna go with that!)

"Has that girl been bothering you, Princess?" I started to shake my head when I realized what he'd said.

"Wait, what? Why, how, where did you hear that nickname?"

"You're the prettiest girl in school, did you really think I wouldn't have heard about your nickname by now?" Cedric laughed as he watched my face turn redder then ever at his words. I shook my head and tried to ignore the funny feeling in my stomach.

"Um hey, I never got to properly thank you for catching me the other day...so uh...thanks!" I stammered.

"It was my pleasure, Princess! Shall I walk you back to your room?"

I blushed again but nodded shyly. "I-I would like that, thank you! But please don't call me that, I'm most definitely not a Princess!"

As we walked back to my room, Cedric asked me about my classes and I got lost in conversation and forgot to feel nervous. By the time we got to my room, my sides were hurting from how much I had laughed. I thanked him for walking me to my room and entered my room; flopping onto my bed with a sigh. Man was he gorgeous! I giggled and hid my head in my pillow.

From then on, Cedric would be there to walk me back to my room after quidditch practice. He didn't say why, but I welcomed the company and I didn't have to find alternate routes back anymore which was certainly nice.

I couldn't understand why he was even giving me the time of day, but the more I got to know him, the more I realized there was more to him than just a pretty face.

********************************************

Two weeks before the end of the term, the sky lightened suddenly to a dazzling, opaline white and the muddy grounds were revealed one morning covered in glittering frost. Inside the castle, there was a buzz of Christmas in the air. Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, had already decorated his classroom with shimmering lights that turned out to be real, fluttering fairies. The students were all happily discussing their plans for the holidays. Both Ron and Hermione had decided to remain at Hogwarts, and though Ron said it was because he couldn't stand two weeks with Percy, and Hermione insisted she needed to use the library, Harry and I weren't fooled; they were doing it to keep us company, and I was very grateful. 

To everyone's delight except Harry's, there was to be another Hogsmeade trip on the very last weekend of the term.

"We can do all our Christmas shopping there!" said Hermione. "Mum and Dad would really love those Toothflossing Stringmints from Honeydukes!"

Resigned to the fact that he would be the only third year staying behind again, Harry borrowed a copy of Which Broomstick from Wood, and decided to spend the day reading up on the different makes. We had been riding two of the school brooms at team practice, ancient Shooting Stars, which were very slow and jerky; we definitely needed new brooms of our own.

On the Saturday morning of the Hogsmeade trip, Harry bid good-bye to Ron and Hermione; I didn't fail to notice his eyes linger on me before he turned up the marble staircase alone, and headed back toward Gryffindor Tower. Snow had started to fall outside the windows, and the castle was very still and quiet.

Hermione, Ron, and I decided to go to Honeydukes first. We entered the crowed shop and started looking around.

There were shelves upon shelves of the most succulent-looking sweets imaginable. Creamy chunks of nougat, shimmering pink squares of coconut ice, fat, honey-colored toffees, and hundreds of different kinds of chocolate in neat rows. Ron and Hermione made their way over to a section labeled UNUSUAL TASTES.

"Ugh, no, Harry won't want one of those, they're for vampires, I expect," Hermione said as Ron pointed to a blood flavored lollipop.

"How about these?" said Ron, shoving a jar of Cockroach Clusters under Hermione's nose.

"Definitely not," said Harry.

Ron nearly dropped the jar.

"Harry!" squealed Hermione. "What are you doing here? How—how did you—?"

"Wow!" said Ron, looking very impressed, "you've learned to Apparate!"

"'Course I haven't," said Harry. He dropped his voice so that none of the sixth years could hear him and told us all about the Marauder's Map.

"How come Fred and George never gave it to me!" said Ron, outraged. "I'm their brother!"

"But Harry isn't going to keep it!" said Hermione, as though the idea were ludicrous. "He's going to hand it in to Professor McGonagall, aren't you, Harry?"

"No, I'm not!" said Harry.

"Are you mad?" said Ron, goggling at Hermione. "Hand in something that good?"

"If I hand it in, I'll have to say where I got it! Filch would know Fred and George had nicked it!"

"But what about Sirius Black?" Hermione hissed. "He could be using one of the passages on that map to get into the castle! The teachers have got to know!"

"He can't be getting in through a passage," said Harry quickly. "There are seven secret tunnels on the map, right? Fred and George reckon Filch already knows about four of them. And of the other three—one of them's caved in, so no one can get through it. One of them's got the Whomping Willow planted over the entrance, so you can't get out of it. And the one I just came through—well—it's really hard to see the entrance to it down in the cellar, so unless he knew it was there..."

Ron cleared his throat significantly, and pointed to a notice pasted on the inside of the sweetshop door.

—— BY ORDER OF ——  
THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC  
Customers are reminded that until further notice, dementors will be patrolling the streets of Hogsmeade every night after sundown. This measure has been put in place for the safety of Hogsmeade residents and will be lifted upon the recapture of Sirius Black. It is therefore advisable that you complete your shopping well before nightfall.

Merry Christmas!

"See?" said Ron quietly. "I'd like to see Black try and break into Honeydukes with dementors swarming all over the village. Anyway, Hermione, the Honeydukes owners would hear a break-in, wouldn't they? They live over the shop!"

"Yes, but—but—" Hermoine seemed to be struggling to find another problem. "Look, Harry still shouldn't be coming into Hogsmeade. He hasn't got a signed form! If anyone finds out, he'll be in so much trouble! And it's not nightfall yet—what if Sirius Black turns up today? Now?"

"He'd have a job spotting Harry in this," said Ron, nodding through the mullioned windows at the thick, swirling snow. "Come on, Hermione, it's Christmas. Harry deserves a break."

Hermione bit her lip, looking extremely worried.

"Are you going to report me?" Harry asked her, grinning.

"Oh—of course not—but honestly, Harry—"

"Seen the Fizzing Whizbees, Harry?" said Ron, grabbing him and leading him over to their barrel. "And the Jelly Slugs? And the Acid Pops? Fred gave me one of those when I was seven—it burnt a hole right through my tongue. I remember Mum walloping him with her broomstick." Ron stared broodingly into the Acid Pop box. "Reckon Fred'd take a bit of Cockroach Cluster if I told him they were peanuts?"

When Ron and Hermione had paid for all their sweets, the four of us left Honeydukes for the blizzard outside.

Hogsmeade looked like a Christmas card; the little thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow; there were holly wreaths on the doors and strings of enchanted candles hanging in the trees.

"Tell you what," said Ron, his teeth chattering, "shall we go for a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks?"

We crossed the road, and in a few minutes were entering the tiny inn.

It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm, and smoky. A curvy sort of woman with a pretty face was serving a bunch of rowdy warlocks up at the bar.

"That's Madam Rosmerta," said Ron. "I'll get the drinks, shall I?" he added, going slightly red.

Harry, Hermione, and I made our way to the back of the room, where there was a small, vacant table between the window and a handsome Christmas tree, which stood next to the fireplace. Ron came back five minutes later, carrying four foaming tankards of hot butterbeer.

"Merry Christmas!" he said happily, raising his tankard.

I drank deeply. It was the most delicious thing I'd ever tasted and seemed to heat every bit of me from the inside.

A sudden breeze ruffled my hair. The door of the Three Broomsticks had opened again. I looked over the rim of my tankard and choked.

Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had just entered the pub with a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with a portly man in a lime-green bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak—Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.

In an instant, Ron and Hermione had both placed hands on the top of Harry's head and forced him off his stool and under the table. We watched the teachers and Fudge move toward the bar, pause, then turn and walk right toward us.

I whispered, "Mobiliarbus!"

The Christmas tree beside our table rose a few inches off the ground, drifted sideways, and landed with a soft thump right in front of our table, hiding us from view. 

"A small gillywater—"

"Mine," said Professor McGonagall's voice.

"Four pints of mulled mead—"

"Ta, Rosmerta," said Hagrid.

"A cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella—"

"Mmm!" said Professor Flitwick, smacking his lips.

"So you'll be the red currant rum, Minister."

"Thank you, Rosmerta, m'dear," said Fudge's voice. "Lovely to see you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won't you? Come and join us..."

"Well, thank you very much, Minister."

"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?" came Madam Rosmerta's voice.

"What else, m'dear, but Sirius Black? I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Halloween?"

"I did hear a rumor," admitted Madam Rosmerta.

"Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?" said Minnie exasperatedly.

"Do you think Black's still in the area, Minister?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.

"I'm sure of it," said Fudge shortly.

"You know that the dementors have searched the whole village twice?" said Madam Rosmerta, a slight edge to her voice. "Scared all my customers away... It's very bad for business, Minister."

"Rosmerta, m'dear, I don't like them any more than you do," said Fudge uncomfortably. "Necessary precaution... unfortunate, but there you are... I've just met some of them. They're in a fury against Dumbledore—he won't let them inside the castle grounds."

"I should think not," said Minnie sharply. "How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?"

"Hear, hear!" squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick, whose feet were dangling a foot from the ground.

"All the same," demurred Fudge, "they are here to protect you all from something much worse...We all know what Black's capable of..."

"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," said Madam Rosmerta thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought...I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead."

"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," said Fudge gruffly. "The worst he did isn't widely known."

"The worst?" said Madam Rosmerta, her voice alive with curiosity. "Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?"

"I certainly do," said Fudge.

"I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?"

"You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," murmured Professor McGonagall. "Do you remember who his best friend was?"

"Naturally," said Madam Rosmerta, with a small laugh. "Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here—ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!"

Harry dropped his tankard with a loud clunk. Ron kicked him.

"Precisely," said Professor McGonagall. "Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course—exceptionally bright, in fact—but I don't think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers—"

"I dunno," chuckled Hagrid. "Fred and George Weasley could give 'em a run fer their money."

"You'd have thought Black and Potter were brothers!" chimed in Professor Flitwick. "Inseparable!"

"Of course they were," said Fudge. "Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily. And James was best man when Sirius married Eliana Dumbledore. The Potters were declared Katrina's godparents and of course they in turn named Sirius godfather to Harry. Neither Harry or Katrina have any idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment them. The poor child. Her own father!

It was my turn to spill my tankard. Sirius Black had been married to my mother?! But then that made him...that meant...Cornelius Fudge had been talking about me! Sirius Black was my father! My blood went cold and my shoulders slumped.

"Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.

"Worse even than that, m'dear..." Fudge dropped his voice and proceeded in a sort of low rumble. "Not many people are aware that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James, Lily, and Eliana at once. He advised them to all go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm."

"How does that work?" said Madam Rosmerta, breathless with interest. Professor Flitwick cleared his throat.

"An immensely complex spell," he said squeakily, "involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find—unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. As long as the Secret-Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Lily, James, and Eliana were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nose pressed against their sitting room window!"

"So Black was the Potters' and his Wife's Secret-Keeper?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.

"Naturally," said Professor McGonagall. "James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself...and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters' Secret-Keeper himself."

"He suspected Black?" gasped Madam Rosmerta.

"He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements," said Professor McGonagall darkly. "Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who."

"But James Potter insisted on using Black?"

"He did," said Fudge heavily. "And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed—"

"Black betrayed them?" breathed Madam Rosmerta.

"He did indeed. Black was tired of his double-agent role, he was ready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and he seems to have planned this for the moment of the Potters' death. But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Harry Potter and Katrina. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed. His master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colors as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it—"

"Filthy, stinkin' turncoat!" Hagrid said, so loudly that half the bar went quiet.

"Shh!" said Professor McGonagall.

"I met him!" growled Hagrid. "I musta bin the last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me what rescued Harry and Kat from Lily an' James's house after they was killed! Jus' got em outta the ruins, poor little things, with a great slash across his forehead an her collarbone, an' his parents dead...her mother, an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' motorbike he used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin' there. I didn' know he'd bin Lily an' James's Secret-Keeper. Thought he'd jus' heard the news o' You-Know-Who's attack an' come ter see what he could do. White an' shakin', he was. An' yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN' TRAITOR!" Hagrid roared.

"Hagrid, please!" said Professor McGonagall. "Keep your voice down!"

"How was I ter know he wasn' upset abou' Lily, James, an his wife? It was You-Know-Who he cared abou'! An' then he says, 'Give em ter me, Hagrid, I'm his godfather and she's my daughter, I'll look after em—' Ha! But I'd had me orders from Dumbledore, an' I told Black no, Dumbledore said Harry was ter go ter his aunt an' uncle's and Kat would stay with Dumbledore himself at Hogwarts. Black argued, but in the end he gave in. Told me ter take his motorbike ter get them there. 'I won't need it anymore,' he says. I shoulda known there was somethin' fishy goin' on then. He loved that motorbike, what was he givin' it ter me for? Why wouldn' he need it anymore? Fact was, it was too easy ter trace. Dumbledore knew he'd bin the Potters' Secret-Keeper. Black knew he was goin' ter have ter run fer it that night, knew it was a matter o' hours before the Ministry was after him.

"But what if I'd given em to him, eh? I bet he'd've pitched em off the bike halfway out ter sea. His bes' friends' son! His own child! But when a wizard goes over ter the Dark Side, there's nothin' and no one that matters to 'em anymore..."

A long silence followed Hagrid's story. Then Madam Rosmerta said with some satisfaction, "But he didn't manage to disappear, did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!"

"Alas, if only we had," said Fudge bitterly. "It was not we who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew—another of the Potters' friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper, he went after Black himself."

"Pettigrew...that fat little boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?" said Madam Rosmerta.

"He worshipped Black and Potter," said Professor McGonagall. "Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rather sharp with him. You can imagine how I—how I regret that now..." She sounded as though she had a sudden head cold.

"There, now, Minerva," said Fudge kindly, "Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eyewitnesses—Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later—told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing, 'Lily and James, Eliana, Sirius! How could you?' And then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens..."

Professor McGonagall blew her nose and said thickly, "Stupid boy...foolish boy...he was always hopeless at dueling...should have left it to the Ministry..."

"I tell yeh, if I'd got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn't've messed around with wands—I'd've ripped him limb—from—limb," Hagrid growled.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid," said Fudge sharply. "Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after Black murdered all those people. I—I will never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street, so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggles screaming. And Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him...a heap of bloodstained robes and a few—a few fragments—"

Fudge's voice stopped abruptly. There was the sound of five noses being blown.

"Well, there you have it, Rosmerta," said Fudge thickly. "Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Black's been in Azkaban ever since."

Madam Rosmerta let out a long sigh.

"Is it true he's mad, Minister?"

"I wish I could say that he was," said Fudge slowly. "I certainly believe his master's defeat unhinged him for a while. The murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man—cruel... pointless. Yet I met Black on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark; there's no sense in them...but I was shocked at how normal Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought he was merely bored—asked if I'd finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the dementors seemed to be having on him—and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know. Dementors outside his door day and night."

"But what do you think he's broken out to do?" said Madam Rosmerta. "Good gracious, Minister, he isn't trying to rejoin You-Know-Who, is he?"

"I daresay that is his—er—eventual plan," said Fudge evasively. "But we hope to catch Black long before that. I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing...but give him back his most devoted servant, and I shudder to think how quickly he'll rise again..."

There was a small chink of glass on wood. Someone had set down their glass.

"You know, Cornelius, if you're dining with the headmaster, we'd better head back up to the castle," said Professor McGonagall.

One by one, the pairs of feet in front of us took the weight of their owners once more; hems of cloaks swung into sight, and Madam Rosemerta's glittering heels disappeared behind the bar. The door of the Three Broomsticks opened again, there was another flurry of snow, and the teachers had disappeared.

"Harry? Katrina?"

Ron's and Hermione's faces appeared under the table. They were both staring at us, lost for words. I didn't know what to say myself. My father, my own flesh and blood had been responsible for not only my mother's death but the death of my best friend's parents!

********************************************

In-Line Comments

\- Ok, so as I mentioned earlier only Eliana, Albus, and Sirius knew who Kat's real father was; i.e. Tom Riddle, so as far as the rest of the world is concerned, Sirius is her father so for now that's what she's going to wrongly be told/think, so shhhh don't tell her!


	49. The Firebolts

Katrina's POV

I barely payed attention as Hermione, Ron, and I walked back to the castle; Harry had gone back through the cellar in Honeydukes. All I knew was that the return trip seemed to take no time at all, and I hardly noticed what I was doing, because my head was still pounding with the conversation I had just heard. 

Why had nobody ever told me? Dumbledore, Hagrid, Severus, Minnie...why hadn't anyone ever mentioned the fact that Harry's parents and my own mother had died because their best friend; my father, had betrayed them? Not to mention, killing thirteen people!

Ron and Hermione watched Harry and I nervously all through dinner, not daring to talk about what we'd overheard, because Percy was sitting close by us. I didn't have much of an appetite, so I just pushed my food around without actually eating any of it. When we went upstairs to the crowded common room, it was to find Fred and George had set off half a dozen Dungbombs in a fit of end-of-term high spirits. Harry and I snuck past the twins and headed for his room and sat down on his bed, drew the hangings around us and started turning the pages of the photo album Hagrid had given to him our first year, searching, until...

He stopped on a picture of his parents' wedding day. There was his mother and father and standing next to them...their best man...my father. Smiling and waving, he looked a completely different person. If I hadn't known who he was, I never would have guess the person in the Daily Prophet picture was the same man standing beside Harry's dad. 

I hung my head as I turned to Harry slowly. 

"Harry, is, is this why you haven't been talking to me this year? Because of my dad?" 

It was a long moment before he finally spoke. "Yes, I guess so..."

I felt my blood turn to ice at his words. I opened and closed my mouth trying to find something appropriate to say. 

"Harry, I-I..."

"Look, I don't want to talk about it, leave it alone!" He stood up abruptly and strode off to look out the window.

Harry's POV

"Harry, is, is this why you haven't been talking to me this year? Because of my dad?" At Kat's words, I froze, unsure of what to say. While I had definitely not known Sirius Black had been married to her mother, I knew for certain that he was not in fact her actual father. But how could I tell her that whatever she was thinking about her dad right now, it was barely scraping the surface! I didn't want to lie to her but neither did I want to destroy her world anymore than it had already been!

Looking at her now, I knew I had been stupid to ever think that my best friend would have anything to do with her father. She was not evil like him, she was...well, she was just Kat! I felt lighter than I had in a while as I finally let go and decided that I did not care one bit who her father was and what he had done - Dumbledore was right though, she wasn't ready to know the truth yet. It was safer and more merciful to let her think Sirius was her father; as strange as that may seem.

It was a long moment before I finally spoke. "Yes, I guess so..." After all, it was because of her father; her real father that is, that I had been so distant with her lately so it wasn't a lie really.

"Harry, I-I..."

"Look, I don't want to talk about it, leave it alone!" I stood up abruptly and strode off to look out the window. Then turned back around and grasped her hands in mine; feeling bad for yelling at her.

"Look, Kat...I don't really know what to say right now but just know this, I don't blame you for who your father is. You are not him and you will never be anything like him! But this news about Sirius...I...I don't know what to make of it right now - so please, I just need time, we both just need time to process."

The dormitory door opened.

"Harry? Katrina?" said Ron's voice uncertainly.

"Not now Ron, we're going to go to bed, Kat needs some rest," I said, fighting against her until I finally managed to get her under the covers and hug her tight. Man, how I'd missed her hugs! 

A hatred such as I had never known before was coursing through me like poison. I could see Black laughing at me through the darkness, as though somebody had pasted the picture from the album over my eyes. I held onto Kat tightly as I wrapped my blanket around us tighter and tried to go to sleep. But I could tell that neither of us were gonna get much tonight.

********************************************

Katrina's POV

"Harry, Katrina, you—you look terrible."

Neither Harry or I had gotten much sleep. We had awoken to find the dormitory deserted, dressed, and gone down the spiral staircase to a common room that was completely empty except for Ron, who was eating a Peppermint Toad and massaging his stomach, and Hermione, who had spread her homework over three tables.

"Where is everyone?" said Harry.

"Gone! It's the first day of the holidays, remember?" said Ron, watching Harry closely. "It's nearly lunchtime; I was going to come and wake you up in a minute."

Harry slumped into a chair next to the fire as I joined Hermione at the table. Snow was still falling outside the windows. Crookshanks was spread out in front of the fire like a large, ginger rug.

"You really don't look well, you know. Either of you," Hermione said, peering anxiously into my face.

"We're fine," said Harry and I together; but I didn't have the heart to shout jinx.

"Harry, Katrina, listen," said Hermione, exchanging a look with Ron, "you must be really upset about what we heard yesterday. But the thing is, you mustn't go doing anything stupid."

"Like what?" said Harry.

"Like trying to go after Black," said Ron sharply.

I could tell they had rehearsed this conversation while we had been asleep. I didn't say anything.

"You won't, will you?" said Hermione.

"Because Black's not worth dying for," said Ron.

I looked at them. They didn't seem to understand at all.

"D'you know what we see and hear every time a dementor gets too near us?" I started to say. Ron and Hermione shook their heads, looking apprehensive. 

"I can hear my mum screaming and pleading with Voldemort. And if you'd heard your mum screaming like that, just about to be killed, you wouldn't forget it in a hurry. And if you found out someone who was supposed to be a friend of hers betrayed her and sent Voldemort after her—" Harry tried to explain.

"There's nothing you can do!" said Hermione, looking stricken. "The dementors will catch Black and he'll go back to Azkaban and—and serve him right!"

"You heard what Fudge said. Black isn't affected by Azkaban like normal people are. It's not a punishment for him like it is for the others."

"So what are you saying?" said Ron, looking very tense. "You want to—to kill Black or something?"

"Don't be silly," said Hermione in a panicky voice. "Harry doesn't want to kill anyone, do you, Harry?" I looked at my best friend in apprehension. I didn't know how I felt myself either but I definitely was feeling close to murderous and knew he must be feeling the same.

Again, Harry didn't answer.

"Malfoy knows," he said abruptly. "Remember what he said to me in Potions? 'If it was me, I'd hunt him down myself...I'd want revenge.'"

"You're going to take Malfoy's advice instead of ours?" said Ron furiously. "Listen...you know what Pettigrew's mother got back after Black had finished with him? Dad told me—the Order of Merlin, First Class, and Pettigrew's finger in a box. That was the biggest bit of him they could find. Black's a madman and he's dangerous—"

"Malfoy's dad must have told him," said Harry, ignoring Ron. "He was right in Voldemort's inner circle—"

"Say You-Know-Who, will you?" interjected Ron angrily.

"—so obviously, the Malfoys knew Black was working for Voldemort—"

"—and Malfoy'd love to see you blown into about a million pieces, like Pettigrew! Get a grip. Malfoy's just hoping you'll get yourself killed before he has to play you at Quidditch."

"Harry, please," said Hermione, her eyes now shining with tears, "please be sensible. Kat's father did a terrible, terrible thing, but d-don't put yourself in danger, it's what Black wants...Oh, you'd be playing right into Black's hands if you went looking for him. Your parents wouldn't want you two to get hurt, would they? They'd never want you to go looking for Black!"

"We'll never know what they'd have wanted, because thanks to Black, we've never spoken to them," said Harry shortly.

There was a silence in which Crookshanks stretched luxuriously, flexing his claws. Ron's pocket quivered.

"Look," said Ron, obviously casting around for a change of subject, "it's the holidays! It's nearly Christmas! Let's—let's go down and see Hagrid. We haven't visited him for ages!"

"No!" said Hermione quickly. "Harry and Katrina aren't supposed to leave the castle, Ron—"

"Yeah, let's go," said Harry, sitting up.

I nodded as I stood up as well "and we can ask him how come he never mentioned Black when he told us all about Harry's parents!"

Further discussion of Sirius Black plainly wasn't what Ron had had in mind.

"Or we could have a game of chess," he said hastily, "or Gobstones. Percy left a set—"

"No, let's visit Hagrid," said Harry firmly.

So we got our cloaks from our dormitories and set off through the portrait hole ("Stand and fight, you yellow-bellied mongrels!"), down through the empty castle and out through the oak front doors.

We made our way slowly down the lawn, making a shallow trench in the glittering, powdery snow, our socks and the hems of our cloaks soaked and freezing. The Forbidden Forest looked as though it had been enchanted, each tree smattered with silver, and Hagrid's cabin looked like an iced cake.

Ron knocked, but there was no answer.

"He's not out, is he?" said Hermione, who was shivering under her cloak.

Ron had his ear to the door.

"There's a weird noise," he said. "Listen—is that Fang?"

Harry, Hermione, and I put our ears to the door too. From inside the cabin came a series of low, throbbing moans.

"Think we'd better go and get someone?" said Ron nervously.

"Hagrid!" called Harry, thumping the door. "Hagrid, are you in there?"

There was a sound of heavy footsteps, then the door creaked open. Hagrid stood there with his eyes red and swollen, tears splashing down the front of his leather vest.

"Yeh've heard?" he bellowed, and he flung himself onto mine and Harry's necks.

Hagrid being at least twice the size of a normal man, this was no laughing matter. Harry and I, about to collapse under Hagrid's weight, were rescued by Ron and Hermione, who each seized Hagrid under an arm and heaved him back into the cabin. Hagrid allowed himself to be steered into a chair and slumped over the table, sobbing uncontrollably, his face glazed with tears that dripped down into his tangled beard.

"Hagrid, what is it?" said Hermione, aghast.

I spotted an official-looking letter lying open on the table.

"What's this, Hagrid?"

Hagrid's sobs redoubled, but he shoved the letter toward Harry, who picked it up and read aloud:

Dear Mr. Hagrid,

Further to our inquiry into the attack by a hippogriff on a student in your class, we have accepted the assurances of Professor Dumbledore that you bear no responsibility for the regrettable incident.

"Well, that's okay then, Hagrid!" said Ron, clapping Hagrid on the shoulder. But Hagrid continued to sob, and waved one of his gigantic hands, inviting Harry to read on.

However, we must register our concern about the hippogriff in question. We have decided to uphold the official complaint of Mr. Lucius Malfoy, and this matter will therefore be taken to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. The hearing will take place on April 20th, and we ask you to present yourself and your hippogriff at the Committee's offices in London on that date. In the meantime, the hippogriff should be kept tethered and isolated.

Yours in fellowship...

There followed a list of the school governors.

"Oh," said Ron. "But you said Buckbeak isn't a bad hippogriff, Hagrid. I bet he'll get off—"

"Yeh don' know them gargoyles at the Committee fer the Disposal o' Dangerous Creatures!" choked Hagrid, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "They've got it in fer interestin' creatures!"

A sudden sound from the corner of Hagrid's cabin made Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I whip around. Buckbeak the hippogriff was lying in the corner, chomping on something that was oozing blood all over the floor.

 

"I couldn' leave him tied up out there in the snow!" choked Hagrid. "All on his own! At Christmas."

We looked at one another. We had never seen eye to eye with Hagrid about what he called "interesting creatures" and other people called "terrifying monsters." On the other hand, there didn't seem to be any particular harm in Buckbeak. In fact, by Hagrid's usual standards, he was positively cute.

"You'll have to put up a good strong defense, Hagrid," said Hermione, sitting down and laying a hand on Hagrid's massive forearm as Drake flew over to me and landed on my shoulder and wrapped himself around my neck. 

"I'm sure you can prove Buckbeak is safe!" I told Hagrid as I stroked Drake's scales. The motion was somehow soothing and I found that my little dragon's presence appeared to be helping to calm me down.

"Won't make no diff'rence!" sobbed Hagrid. "Them Disposal devils, they're all in Lucius Malfoy's pocket! Scared o' him! An' if I lose the case, Buckbeak—"

Hagrid drew his finger swiftly across his throat, then gave a great wail and lurched forward, his face in his arms.

"What about Dumbledore, Hagrid?" said Harry.

"He's done more'n enough fer me already," groaned Hagrid. "Got enough on his plate what with keepin' them dementors outta the castle, an' Sirius Black lurkin' around—"

Ron and Hermione looked quickly at Harry and I, as though expecting us to start berating Hagrid for not telling us the truth about Black. But neither one of us could bring ourselves to do it, not now that we saw Hagrid so miserable and scared.

"Listen, Hagrid," Harry said, "you can't give up. Hermione and Kat are right, you just need a good defense. You can call us as witnesses—"

"I'm sure I've read about a case of hippogriff-baiting," said Hermione thoughtfully, "where the hippogriff got off. I'll look it up for you, Hagrid, and see exactly what happened."

Hagrid howled still more loudly. Harry and Hermione looked at Ron to help them.

"Er—shall I make a cup of tea?" said Ron.

I stared at him.

"It's what my mum does whenever someone's upset," Ron muttered, shrugging.

At last, after many more assurances of help, with a steaming mug of tea in front of him, Hagrid blew his nose on a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth and said, "Yer right. I can' afford to go ter pieces. Gotta pull meself together..."

Fang the boarhound came timidly out from under the table and laid his head on Hagrid's knee.

"I've not bin meself lately," said Hagrid, stroking Fang with one hand and mopping his face with the other. "Worried abou' Buckbeak, an' no one likin' me classes—"

"We do like them!" lied Hermione at once.

"Yeah, they're great!" said Ron, crossing his fingers under the table. "Er—how are the flobberworms?"

"Dead," said Hagrid gloomily. "Too much lettuce."

"Oh no!" said Ron, his lip twitching.

"An' them dementors make me feel ruddy terrible an' all," said Hagrid, with a sudden shudder. "Gotta walk past 'em ev'ry time I want a drink in the Three Broomsticks. 'S like bein' back in Azkaban—"

He fell silent, gulping his tea. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I watched him breathlessly. We had never heard Hagrid talk about his brief spell in Azkaban before. After a pause, Hermione said timidly, "Is it awful in there, Hagrid?"

"Yeh've no idea," said Hagrid quietly. "Never bin anywhere like it. Thought I was goin' mad. Kep' goin' over horrible stuff in me mind...the day I got expelled from Hogwarts...day me dad died...day I had ter let Norbert go..."

His eyes filled with tears. Norbert was the baby dragon Hagrid had once won in a game of cards. At his last words I held Drake tighter in my arms, finally understanding how Hagrid must have felt at the time. I don't know what I would do if Drake was ever taken away from me! I kissed his scaley forehead and in turn, he licked my cheek with his forked tongue. 

"Yeh can' really remember who yeh are after a while. An' yeh can' see the point o' livin' at all. I used ter hope I'd jus' die in me sleep...When they let me out, it was like bein' born again, ev'rythin' came floodin' back, it was the bes' feelin' in the world. Mind, the dementors weren't keen on lettin' me go."

"But you were innocent!" said Hermione.

Hagrid snorted.

"Think that matters to them? They don' care. Long as they've got a couple o' hundred humans stuck there with 'em, so they can leech all the happiness out of 'em, they don' give a damn who's guilty an' who's not."

Hagrid went quiet for a moment, staring into his tea. Then he said quietly, "Thought o' jus' letting Buckbeak go...tryin' ter make him fly away...but how d'yeh explain ter a hippogriff it's gotta go inter hidin'? An'—an' I'm scared o' breakin' the law..." He looked up at them, tears leaking down his face again. "I don' ever want ter go back ter Azkaban."

The trip to Hagrid's, though far from fun, had nevertheless had the effect Ron and Hermione had hoped. Though Harry and I had by no means forgotten about Black, we couldn't brood constantly on revenge if we wanted to help Hagrid win his case against the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. He, Ron, Hermione, and I went to the library the next day and returned to the empty common room laden with books that might help prepare a defense for Buckbeak. The four of us sat in front of the roaring fire, slowly turning the pages of dusty volumes about famous cases of marauding beasts, speaking occasionally when we ran across something relevant.

"Here's something...there was a case in 1722...but the hippogriff was convicted—ugh, look what they did to it, that's disgusting—"

"This might help, look—a manticore savaged someone in 1296, and they let the manticore off—oh—no, that was only because everyone was too scared to go near it..."

Meanwhile, in the rest of the castle, the usual magnificent Christmas decorations had been put up, despite the fact that hardly any of the students remained to enjoy them. Thick streamers of holly and mistletoe were strung along the corridors, mysterious lights shone from inside every suit of armor, and the Great Hall was filled with its usual twelve Christmas trees, glittering with golden stars. A powerful and delicious smell of cooking pervaded the corridors, and by Christmas Eve, it had grown so strong that even Scabbers poked his nose out of the shelter of Ron's pocket to sniff hopefully at the air.

On Christmas morning, I was woken by Hermione dashing into my room and throwing a pillow at me as she jumped up and down on my bed.

"Presents!"

"Ugh, Mione, remind me why I gave you the password to my room!" I groaned as I rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom.

"Because I'm your best friend!" She called after me. I brushed my teeth and hair then changed my clothes before joining Hermione as we walked back to join Ron and Harry in the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Another sweater from Mum...maroon again...see if you've got them as well," Ron said to us as we sat in front of the fireplace opening our presents.

I had. Mrs. Weasley had sent me a dark blue sweater with the letter K  knitted on the front in pale blue, also a dozen home-baked mince pies, some Christmas cake, and a box of nut brittle. 

I opened Harry's gift next and gasped. It was another charm for my bracelet only this one looked exactly like a mini version of Drake - down to the last detail. I ran to Harry and hugged him tightly as he attached the charm for me. Then I turned to a long, thin package.

 

"What're those?" said Ron, looking over, a freshly unwrapped pair of maroon socks in his hand.

"Dunno..."

Harry and I ripped the parcels open and gasped as two magnificent, gleaming broomsticks rolled out onto the floor. Ron dropped his socks and jumped over for a closer look.

"I don't believe it," he said hoarsely.

They were Firebolts, identical to the dream broom I had seen in the shop window in Diagon Alley over the summer with Sev. Handles glittered as we picked them up. I could feel it vibrating and let go; it hung in midair, unsupported, at exactly the right height for me to mount it. My eyes moved from the golden registration number at the top of the handle, right down to the perfectly smooth, streamlined birch twigs that made up the tail.

"Who sent them to you?" said Ron in a hushed voice.

"Look and see if there's a card," said Harry to Ron while I tore through the wrapping paper mine had come in.

"Nothing! Blimey, who'd spend that much on you two."

"Well," said Harry, feeling stunned, "I'm betting it wasn't the Dursleys."

"And I don't have anyone..." I paused as I remembered that this was no longer true. I obviously had grandfather but no one was supposed to know about the two of us and apparently now I had Sirius Black as well; not that I wanted him...

"I bet it was Dumbledore," said Ron, now walking around and around the Firebolts, taking in every glorious inch. "He sent you the Invisibility Cloak anonymously..."

"That was my dad's, though," said Harry. "Dumbledore was just passing it on to me. He wouldn't spend hundreds of Galleons on me. He can't go giving students stuff like this—" Harry looked over at me as he said this, knowing that Dumbledore would have very well sent one to me if circumstances had allowed for less secrecy between us.

"That's why he wouldn't say it was from him!" said Ron. "In case some git like Malfoy said it was favoritism. Hey, Harry"—Ron gave a great whoop of laughter—"Malfoy! Wait till he sees you on these! He'll be sick as a pig! These are international standard brooms!" I rolled my eyes as I thought of Draco's reaction. Ron was not wrong.

"I can't believe this," Harry muttered, running a hand along his Firebolt, while Ron sank onto one of the cushy armchairs by the fire, laughing his head off at the thought of Malfoy. "Who—?"

"I know," said Ron, controlling himself, "I know who it could've been—Lupin!"

"What?" said Harry and I, now starting to laugh along with Ron. "Lupin? Listen, if he had this much gold, he'd be able to buy himself some new robes." I frowned at Harry's rude comment but let it go, he didn't know the truth about Lupin like Hermione and I.

"Yeah, but he likes you," said Ron. "And he was away when your Nimbuses (Nimbusi? Lmao what's the plural?) got smashed, and he might've heard about it and decided to visit Diagon Alley and get these for you two—"

"What d'you mean, he was away?" said Harry. "He was ill when we were playing in that match."

"Well, he wasn't in the hospital wing," said Ron. "I was there, cleaning out the bedpans on that detention from Snape, remember?"

Harry frowned at Ron.

"I can't see Lupin affording something like this."

Hermione and I shared a knowing look just as Crookshanks, who was looking very grumpy, with a string of tinsel tied around his neck, walked into the common room.

"Don't let him in here!" said Ron, hurriedly snatching Scabbers from the depths of the couch and stowing him in his pajama pocket. But Hermione wasn't listening. She was still looking at the new brooms open-mouthed.

"What's the matter with you?" said Ron.

"I don't know," said Hermione slowly, "but it's a bit odd, isn't it? I mean, these are supposed to be quite good brooms, aren't they?"

Ron sighed exasperatedly.

"They're the best brooms there is, Hermione," he said.

"So they must've been really expensive..."

"Probably cost more than all the Slytherins' brooms put together," said Ron happily.

"Well...who'd send Harry and Kat something as expensive as that, and not even tell them they'd sent it?" said Hermione.

"Who cares?" said Ron impatiently. "Listen, Harry, can I have a go on yours? Can I?"

"I don't think anyone should ride those broom just yet!" said Hermione shrilly.

Harry, Ron, and I looked at her.

"What d'you think they're going to do with them - sweep the floor?" said Ron.

But before Hermione could answer, Crookshanks sprang from his spot beside Hermione, right at Ron's chest.

"GET—HIM—OUT—OF—HERE!" Ron bellowed as Crookshanks's claws ripped his pajamas and Scabbers attempted a wild escape over his shoulder. Ron seized Scabbers by the tail and aimed a misjudged kick at Crookshanks that hit the chair leg and causing Ron to hop up and down, howling with pain.

"You'd better take that cat out of here, Hermione," said Ron furiously, sitting back down nursing his toe. Hermione picked her cat up and I followed her out of the room. We finished opening up our presents in my room instead.

********************************************

Christmas spirit was definitely thin on the ground in the Gryffindor common room later that day. Hermione had shut Crookshanks in her dormitory, but was furious with Ron for trying to kick him; Ron was still fuming about Crookshanks's fresh attempt to eat Scabbers. Harry and I gave up trying to make them talk to each other and devoted ourselves to examining the Firebolts. For some reason this seemed to annoy Hermione as well; she didn't say anything, but she kept looking darkly at the brooms as though they too had been criticizing her cat.

At lunchtime we went down to the Great Hall, to find that the House tables had been moved against the walls again, and that a single table, set for twelve, stood in the middle of the room. My grandfather, Minnie, Sev, Sprout, and Flitwick were there, along with Filch, the caretaker, who had taken off his usual brown coat and was wearing a very old and rather moldy-looking tailcoat. There were only three other students, two extremely nervous-looking first years and a sullen-faced Slytherin fifth year.

"Merry Christmas!" said grandfather as the four of us approached the table. "As there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the House tables...Sit down, sit down!"

We sat down side by side at the end of the table.

"Crackers!" said Dumbledore enthusiastically, offering the end of a large silver noisemaker to Sev, who took it reluctantly and tugged. With a bang like a gunshot, the cracker flew apart to reveal a large, pointed witch's hat topped with a stuffed vulture.

Remembering the boggart, I grinned; Sev's mouth thinned and he pushed the hat toward Dumbledore, who swapped it for his wizard's hat at once.

"Dig in!" he advised the table, beaming around.

As I piled roast potatoes onto my plate for the sake of appearances, the doors of the Great Hall opened again. It was Professor Trelawney, gliding toward us as though on wheels. She had put on a green sequined dress in honor of the occasion, making her look more than ever like a glittering, oversized dragonfly.

"Sibyll, this is a pleasant surprise!" said Dumbledore, standing up.

"I have been crystal gazing, Headmaster," said Professor Trelawney in her mistiest, most faraway voice, "and to my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my tower, and I do beg you to forgive my lateness..."

"Certainly, certainly," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "Let me draw you up a chair—"

And he did indeed draw a chair in midair with his wand, which revolved for a few seconds before falling with a thud between Sev and Minnie. Professor Trelawney, however, did not sit down; her enormous eyes had been roving around the table, and she suddenly uttered a kind of soft scream.

"I dare not, Headmaster! If I join the table, we shall be thirteen! (Not sure if this is still the same with Kat there but just pretend it still totals 13 or whatever k? Lol) Nothing could be more unlucky! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!"

"We'll risk it, Sibyll," said Minnie impatiently. "Do sit down, the turkey's getting stone cold."

Professor Trelawney hesitated, then lowered herself into the empty chair, eyes shut and mouth clenched tight, as though expecting a thunderbolt to hit the table. Minnie poked a large spoon into the nearest tureen.

"Tripe, Sibyll?"

Professor Trelawney ignored her. Eyes open again, she looked around once more and said, "But where is dear Professor Lupin?"

"I'm afraid the poor fellow is ill again," said Dumbledore, indicating that everybody should start serving themselves. "Most unfortunate that it should happen on Christmas Day."

"But surely you already knew that, Sibyll?" said Minnie, her eyebrows raised.

Professor Trelawney gave Minnie a very cold look.

"Certainly I knew, Minerva," she said quietly. "But one does not parade the fact that one is All-Knowing. I frequently act as though I am not possessed of the Inner Eye, so as not to make others nervous."

"That explains a great deal," said Minnie tartly. I giggled and as she caught my eye, the corners of her lips tugged into a brief smile.

Professor Trelawney's voice suddenly became a good deal less misty.

"If you must know, Minerva, I have seen that poor Professor Lupin will not be with us for very long. He seems aware, himself, that his time is short. He positively fled when I offered to crystal gaze for him—"

"Imagine that," said Professor McGonagall dryly.

"I doubt," said Dumbledore, in a cheerful but slightly raised voice, which put an end to Professor McGonagall and Professor Trelawney's conversation, "that Professor Lupin is in any immediate danger. Severus, you've made the potion for him again?"

"Yes, Headmaster," said Sev.

"Good," said grandfather. "Then he should be up and about in no time... Derek, have you had any of these chipolatas? They're excellent."

The first-year boy went furiously red on being addressed directly by Dumbledore, and took the platter of sausages with trembling hands. I giggled once more at the boy's reaction.

Professor Trelawney behaved almost normally until the very end of Christmas dinner, two hours later. Full to bursting with Christmas dinner and still wearing their party hats, Harry and Ron got up first from the table and she shrieked loudly.

"My dears! Which of you left his seat first? Which?"

"Dunno," said Ron, looking uneasily at Harry.

"I doubt it will make much difference," said Professor McGonagall coldly, "unless a mad axe-man is waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the entrance hall." I burst out laughing at this.

Even Ron laughed. Professor Trelawney looked highly affronted.

"Coming?" Harry said to Hermione as Ron and I followed him out. I hadn't eaten much, just pushed the potatoes around my plate, my appetite still diminished and I was more than happy to leave at the first chance I got, but Hermione was staying back for some reason.

"No," Hermione muttered, "I want a quick word with Professor McGonagall."

"Probably trying to see if she can take any more classes," yawned Ron as we made our way into the entrance hall, which was completely devoid of mad axe-men.

When we reached the portrait hole, we found Sir Cadogan enjoying a Christmas party with a couple of monks, several previous headmasters of Hogwarts, and his fat pony. He pushed up his visor and toasted us with a flagon of mead.

"Merry—hic—Christmas! Password?"

"Scurvy cur," said Ron.

"And the same to you, sir!" roared Sir Cadogan as the painting swung forward to admit us.

Harry went straight up to the dormitory, collected the Broomstick Servicing Kit Hermione had given him for his birthday, brought it downstairs, and the two of us tried to find something to do to the Firebolts; however, there were no bent twigs to clip, and the handles were so shiny already it seemed pointless to polish them. He, Ron, and I simply sat admiring them from every angle until the portrait hole opened, and Hermione came in, accompanied by Minnie.

Though Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor House, I had never seen her in the common room. We stared at her as Hermione walked around us, sat down, picked up the nearest book, and hid her face behind it.

"So those are the brooms?" said Professor McGonagall beadily, walking over to the fireside and staring at the Firebolts. "Miss Granger has just informed me that you two have been sent broomsticks, Potter, Katrina."

Harry, Ron, and I looked around at Hermione. We could see her forehead reddening over the top of her book, which was upside down.

"May I?" said Professor McGonagall, but she didn't wait for an answer before pulling the Firebolts out of our hands. She examined them carefully from handle to twig-ends. "Hmm. And there was no notes at all, no cards? No message of any kind?"

"No," said Harry blankly.

"I see...," said Professor McGonagall. "Well, I'm afraid I will have to take these."

"W—what?" said Harry and I, scrambling to our feet. "Why?"

"They will need to be checked for jinxes," said Professor McGonagall. "Of course, I'm no expert, but I daresay Madam Hooch and Professor Flitwick will strip them down—"

"Strip them down?" repeated Ron, as though Professor McGonagall was mad.

"It shouldn't take more than a few weeks," said Professor McGonagall. "You will have them back if we are sure they are jinx-free."

"There's nothing wrong with them!" said Harry, his voice shaking slightly. "Honestly, Professor—"

"You can't know that, Potter," said Professor McGonagall, quite kindly, "not until you've flown them, at any rate, and I'm afraid that is out of the question until we are certain that they have not been tampered with. I shall keep you informed."

Professor McGonagall turned on her heel and carried the Firebolts out of the portrait hole, which closed behind her. Harry stood staring after her, the tin of High-Finish Polish still clutched in his hands. Ron, however, rounded on Hermione.

"What did you go running to McGonagall for?"

Hermione threw her book aside. She was still pink in the face, but stood up and faced Ron defiantly.

"Because I thought—and Professor McGonagall agrees with me—that that brooms were probably sent to Harry and Katrina by Sirius Black!"


	50. The Patronus

(This chapter is dedicated to NyxTheSnitch for suggesting a great way to describe how Kat feels about her Boggart thanks!)

Katrina's POV

Harry and Ron knew that Hermione had meant well, but that didn't stop them from being angry with her. As far as Ron was concerned, the stripping-down of a brand-new Firebolt was nothing less than criminal damage. 

Hermione, who remained convinced that she had acted for the best, started avoiding the common room. I let her spend time in my room or joined her in the library since I wasn't childish enough to let a broom come in between me and one of my best friends! 

All in all, we were glad when the rest of the school returned shortly after New Year, and Gryffindor Tower became crowded and noisy again.

Oliver sought Harry and I out on the night before term started.

"Had a good Christmas?" he said, and then, without waiting for an answer, he sat down, lowered his voice, and said, "I've been doing some thinking over Christmas, Harry, Katrina. After the last match, you know. If the dementors come to the next one...I mean...we can't afford you to—well—"

Oliver broke off, looking awkward.

"We're working on it," said Harry quickly. "Professor Lupin said he'd train us to ward off the dementors. We should be starting this week. He said he'd have time after Christmas."

"Ah," said Oliver, his expression clearing. "Well, in that case—I really didn't want to lose you as Seeker, Harry. Nor you as a chaser, Kat. And have you ordered new brooms yet?"

"No," said Harry.

"What! You'd better get a move on, you know—you can't ride those Shooting Stars against Ravenclaw!"

"They got Firebolts for Christmas," said Ron.

"Firebolts? No! Seriously? Real Firebolts?"

"Don't get excited, Oliver," said Harry gloomily. "We haven't got them anymore. They were confiscated." And he explained all about how our Firebolts were now being checked for jinxes.

"Jinxed? How could they be jinxed?"

"Sirius Black," Harry said wearily. "He's supposed to be after me and Kat. So McGonagall reckons he might have sent them."

Waving aside the information that a famous murderer was after his Seeker and chaser, Oliver said, "But Black couldn't have bought Firebolts! He's on the run! The whole country's on the lookout for him! How could he just walk into Quality Quidditch Supplies and buy broomsticks?"

"I know," said Harry, "but McGonagall still wants to strip them down—"

Oliver went pale.

"I'll go and talk to her, Harry," he promised. "I'll make her see reason...Firebolts...real Firebolts, on our team...She wants Gryffindor to win as much as we do...I'll make her see sense. Firebolts..."

Classes started again the next day. The last thing anyone felt like doing was spending two hours on the grounds on a raw January morning, but Hagrid had provided a bonfire full of salamanders for our enjoyment, and we spent an unusually good lesson collecting dry wood and leaves to keep the fire blazing while the flame-loving lizards scampered up and down the crumbling, white-hot logs. 

The first Divination lesson of the new term was much less fun; Professor Trelawney was now teaching us palmistry, and she lost no time in informing Harry and I that we had the shortest life lines she had ever seen.

It was Defense Against the Dark Arts that Harry and I were keen to get to; after our conversation with Oliver, we wanted to get started on our anti-dementor lessons as soon as possible.

"Ah yes," said Lupin, when Harry and I reminded him of his promise at the end of class. "Let me see...how about eight o'clock on Thursday evening? The History of Magic classroom should be large enough...I'll have to think carefully about how we're going to do this...We can't bring a real dementor into the castle to practice on..."

"Still looks ill, doesn't he?" said Ron as we walked down the corridor, heading to dinner. "What d'you reckon's the matter with him?"

There was a loud and impatient "tuh" from behind us. It was Hermione, who had been sitting at the feet of a suit of armor, repacking her bag, which was so full of books it wouldn't close. I ran over to help her out and together we got her bag closed. 

"And what are you tutting at us for?" said Ron irritably.

"Nothing," said Hermione in a lofty voice, as I helped her put her bag back over her shoulder.

"Yes, you were," said Ron. "I said I wonder what's wrong with Lupin, and you—"

"Well, isn't it obvious?" said Hermione, with a look of maddening superiority. I glanced at her and we shared a knowing look.

"If you don't want to tell us, don't," snapped Ron.

"Fine," said Hermione haughtily, and she marched off. I glanced at Harry apologetically before dashing off after her.

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Hermione and I had just entered the Great Hall for dinner that night when I crashed into someone. I fell to the floor and groaned as I tried to stand back up. A strong arm reached down and hauled me gently back to my feet and brushed me off.

I looked up to see Cedric smiling ruefully down at me.

"Sorry about that, Princess. I just came over to see if you wanted to join my friends and I for dinner. I wanna hear how your Christmas went!" I glanced over at Hermione. I didn't want to just leave her!

"Um, is it okay if my friend Hermione comes with?"

"Of course! The more the merrier!"

As the three of us walked over to sit at the Hufflepuff table, I could feel Harry's and Ron's eyes on us but I didn't give it a second thought. If they wanted to avoid Hermione when she had just been looking out for Harry and I, then they weren't allowed to get upset if we started hanging out with other people!

I sat down next to Cedric and Hermione sat on my other side. I still wasn't feeling very hungry these days but we talked so much that it didn't really matter anyways; though I noticed Cedric looking back at my 3/4 full plate as we left the table that night. (Sorry didn't feel like coming up with a number of different names for Cedric's friends so they're just gonna be anonymous for now until I can come up with something/depending on if they make appearances enough in the following chapters/books)

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At eight o'clock on Thursday evening, Harry and I left for the History of Magic classroom. It was dark and empty when we arrived, but I lit the lamps with a quick wave of my hand when Harry wasn't looking and we had waited only five minutes when Professor Lupin turned up, carrying a large packing case, which he heaved onto Professor Binns' desk.

"What's that?" said Harry and I at the same time; I decided once again not to shout jinx. 

"Another boggart," said Lupin, stripping off his cloak. "I've been combing the castle ever since Tuesday, and very luckily, I found this one lurking inside Mr. Filch's filing cabinet. It's the nearest we'll get to a real dementor. The boggart will turn into a dementor when he sees you, so we'll be able to practice on him. I can store him in my office when we're not using him; there's a cupboard under my desk he'll like."

"Okay," said Harry, but I backed up against the wall. I did not want to repeat what had happened the last time I had encountered a boggart!

"But it won't turn into a dementor when it faces me! Only Harry..." I commented, still pressed against the wall.

"Unfortunately I couldn't think of a way around that. So I will only be able to teach you the spell and how to cast it and hopefully that will be enough."

I nodded and slowly peeled myself away from the wall as Lupin motioned me forward.

"So...the spell I am going to try and teach you is highly advanced magic, well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level. It is called the Patronus Charm."

"How does it work?" said Harry nervously.

"Well, when it works correctly, it conjures up a Patronus," said Lupin, "which is a kind of anti-dementor—a guardian that acts as a shield between you and the dementor. The Patronus is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very things that the dementor feeds upon—hope, happiness, the desire to survive—but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the dementors can't hurt it. But I must warn you two that the charm might be too advanced for you. Many qualified wizards have difficulty with it."

"What does a Patronus look like?" I asked curiously.

"Each one is unique to the wizard who conjures it."

"And how do you conjure it?"

"With an incantation, which will work only if you are concentrating, with all your might, on a single, very happy memory."

I cast my mind about for a happy memory. I settled on my first trip to Diagon Alley; where I had first met Harry.

"The incantation is this—" Lupin cleared his throat. "Expecto patronum!"

"Expecto patronum," I repeated under my breath, "expecto patronum."

"Concentrating hard on your happy memory?"

"Oh—yeah—" I quickly forced my thoughts back to that first trip. "Expecto Patronum!" 

Something whooshed suddenly out of the end of my wand; it looked like a wisp of silvery gas.

"Did you see that?" Harry and I said excitedly. "Something happened!"

"Very good," said Lupin, smiling. "Right, then—ready to try it on a dementor? Kat, dear, maybe you shouldn't be here for this part, considering what happened last time. But I want you to keep practicing the incantation and we can check in to see every so often how your progress is going. Sound good?" 

I nodded and left the room. I walked up to Gryffindor Tower in search of Hermione. I passed Fred and George on my way; they appeared to be on their way to commit some new prank on an unsuspecting first year; the poor kid.

I entered the common room and looked around but couldn't see Hermione. I spotted Oliver though and went over to him. He was playing a game of wizards chess with a friend by the fire so I sat down beside him and watched the game progress. In the end he won and his friend went off to bed. I knew that I should probably go find Hermione and get started on the pile of homework we had for all the classes we were taking but just as I was getting up to go, Oliver pulled me back down to play the next round with him; how could I resist! He looked so adorable when he asked me to stay...I knew that I shouldn't even like him like that; especially not when I didn't know how I felt about Cedric let alone, Harry! But I couldn't say no.

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Ravenclaw played Slytherin a week after the start of term. Slytherin won, though narrowly. According to Oliver, this was good news for Gryffindor, who would take second place if they beat Ravenclaw too. He therefore increased the number of team practices to five a week. This meant that with Lupin's anti-dementor classes, which in themselves were more draining than six Quidditch practices, and my numerous classes, I had no free time.

Hermione and I were finally wearing out. Every night, without fail, she was in a corner of the common room, several tables spread with books, Arithmancy charts, rune dictionaries, diagrams of Muggles lifting heavy objects, and file upon file of extensive notes. Every night after quidditch practices I would join her but even with two of us working together, we wouldn't finish until late.

I knew Ron and Harry were confused about how Hermione and I were getting to all of our classes but I didn't have time to worry about that. Especially once Hermione and Cedric finally caught on to the fact that I still didn't have much of an appetite. We joined Cedric and his friends for meals now since Hermione and Ron were still avoiding one another. It hadn't taken Cedric long to figure out that I would just push my food around my plate to make it look like I was eating and the two of them would hound me to eat more. But I just wasn't hungry. Ever since I'd found out about Sirius. 

But at least I got to see Harry at our dementor defense lessons. Since I wasn't able to practice like Harry, Lupin had suggested that I first learn to conquer my fear, but I didn't know where to start. How was I supposed to conquer that! 

********************************************

"Bad news, Harry, Kat. I've just been to see Professor McGonagall about the Firebolt. She—er—got a bit shirty with me. Told me I'd got my priorities wrong. Seemed to think I cared more about winning the Cup than I do about you two staying alive. Just because I told her I didn't care if it threw Harry off, as long as he caught the Snitch first." Oliver shook his head in disbelief while avoiding my gaze; clearing not liking the idea of me falling off my broom again. "Honestly, the way she was yelling at me...you'd think I'd said something terrible...Then I asked her how much longer she was going to keep it..." He screwed up his face and imitated Minnie's severe voice. "'As long as necessary, Wood'...I reckon it's time you ordered new brooms. There's an order form at the back of Which Broomstick...you could get a Nimbus Two Thousand and One, like Malfoy's got."

"I'm not buying anything Malfoy thinks is good," said Harry flatly. I glared at my friend at his rude comment but chose to let it slide for now.

January faded imperceptibly into February, with no change in the bitterly cold weather. The match against Ravenclaw was drawing nearer and nearer, but neither Harry or I had ordered a new broom. 

To make matters even worse, my anti-boggart lessons and Harry's anti-dementor lessons were not going well. My dementor shield was still formless but strong; whereas, Harry could still only produce an indistinct silvery shadow. In reverse, he had no trouble repelling a bogart whereas I continued to flip out each and every time. I couldn't escape my fear of losing control when it came to my strange new powers. The hurt look in my friend's eyes as I stood helplessly by as they burned just wouldn't leave me and I tossed and turned each night. Now that I knew I was related to Sirius Black, I couldn't help but see his face underneath the hood; his hands reaching out for me to join him in the fiery destruction.

 

It took a while but I finally told Lupin about my powers and how I had lost control of them the previous summer and how I had found out Sirius was my father. I didn't want to turn out just like him! I knew what Lupin was, so I knew if anyone would understand my fear it would be him. We had a long talk and in the following weeks I was finally able to start repelling my boggart.

********************************************

"You're expecting too much of yourself," said Professor Lupin sternly to Harry and I in our fourth week of practice. "For a thirteen-year-old witch and wizard even an indistinct Patronus is a huge achievement. You aren't passing out anymore, are you?"

"I thought a Patronus would—charge the dementors down or something," said Harry dispiritedly. "Make them disappear—"

"The true Patronus does do that," said Lupin. "But you've both achieved a great deal in a very short space of time. If the dementors put in an appearance at your next Quidditch match, you will be able to keep them at bay long enough to get back to the ground."

"You said it's harder if there are loads of them," said Harry.

"I have complete confidence in you two," said Lupin, smiling. "Here—you've earned a drink—something from the Three Broomsticks. You won't have tried it before—"

He pulled two bottles out of his briefcase.

"Butterbeer!" said Harry, without thinking. "Yeah, I like that stuff!"

Lupin raised an eyebrow and I used my robes to hide the fact that I stomped on Harry's foot.

"Oh—Ron, Hermione, and Kat brought me some back from Hogsmeade," Harry lied quickly.

"I see," said Lupin, though he still looked slightly suspicious. "Well—let's drink to a Gryffindor victory against Ravenclaw! Not that I'm supposed to take sides, as a teacher...," he added hastily.

We drank the butterbeer in silence, until Harry voiced something we'd both been wondering for a while.

"What's under a dementor's hood?"

Professor Lupin lowered his bottle thoughtfully.

"Hmmm...well, the only people who really know are in no condition to tell us. You see, the dementor lowers its hood only to use its last and worst weapon."

"What's that?"

"They call it the Dementor's Kiss," said Lupin, with a slightly twisted smile. "It's what dementors do to those they wish to destroy utterly. I suppose there must be some kind of mouth under there, because they clamp their jaws upon the mouth of the victim and—and suck out his soul."

I accidentally spat out a bit of butterbeer.

"What—they kill—?"

"Oh no," said Lupin. "Much worse than that. You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you'll have no sense of self anymore, no memory, no...anything. There's no chance at all of recovery. You'll just—exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone forever...lost."

Lupin drank a little more butterbeer, then said, "It's the fate that awaits Sirius Black. It was in the Daily Prophet this morning. The Ministry have given the dementors permission to perform it if they find him."

I sat stunned for a moment at the idea of someone; even my own father, having their soul sucked out through their mouth. But then I remembered what he'd done.

"He deserves it," Harry said suddenly.

"You think so?" said Lupin lightly. "Do you really think anyone deserves that?"

"Yes," said Harry defiantly. "For...for some things..."

I hadn't told Lupin that Harry now knew about my father's role in his parents' murder (it wasn't my story to tell not to mention he would have gotten in trouble) so only I understood why Harry was saying what he was saying. Lupin wouldn't be very impressed to hear that Harry had found a way to sneak into Hogsmead! So we finished our butterbeers, thanked Lupin, and left the History of Magic classroom.

I half wished that we hadn't asked what was under a dementor's hood, the answer had been so horrible, and we were so lost in unpleasant thoughts of what it would feel like to have your soul sucked out of you that we walked headlong into Minnie halfway up the stairs.

"Do watch where you're going, Potter! Katrina, dear!"

"Sorry, Professor—"

"I've just been looking for you two in the Gryffindor common room. Well, here they are, we've done everything we could think of, and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with them at all. You've got a very good friend somewhere..."

Our jaws dropped. She was holding out our Firebolts, and they looked as magnificent as ever.

"We can have them back?" Harry said weakly. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," said Minnie, and she was actually smiling. "I daresay you'll need to get the feel of them before Saturday's match, won't you? And Potter—do try and win, won't you? Or we'll be out of the running for the eighth year in a row, as Professor Snape was kind enough to remind me only last night..."

Speechless, we carried our Firebolts back upstairs toward Gryffindor Tower. As we turned a corner, we saw Ron dashing toward us, grinning from ear to ear.

"She gave them to you? Excellent! Listen, can I still have a go on yours? Tomorrow?"

"Yeah...anything...," said Harry. "You know what—we should make up with Hermione...She was only trying to help..."

"Took you long enough!" I muttered.

"Yeah, all right," said Ron. "She's in the common room now—working, for a change—"

We turned into the corridor to Gryffindor Tower and saw Neville Longbottom, pleading with Sir Cadogan, who seemed to be refusing him entrance.

"I wrote them down!" Neville was saying tearfully. "But I must've dropped them somewhere!"

"A likely tale!" roared Sir Cadogan. Then, spotting Harry, Ron, and I: Good even, my fine young yeomen! My lady! Come clap this loon in irons. He is trying to force entry to the chambers within!"

"Oh, shut up," said Ron as we drew level with Neville.

"I've lost the passwords!" Neville told us miserably. "I made him tell me what passwords he was going to use this week, because he keeps changing them, and now I don't know what I've done with them!"

"Oddsbodikins," said Harry to Sir Cadogan, who looked extremely disappointed and reluctantly swung forward to let us into the common room. There was a sudden, excited murmur as every head turned and the next moment, Harry and I were surrounded by people exclaiming over our Firebolts. I handed mine over to Harry and went to join Hermione and got started on my own homework.

About 15-20 minutes later, Harry was finally free to walk over to us where we sat huddled behind a pile of books. 

"We got them back," said Harry, grinning at Hermione and holding up the Firebolts.

"Yes, Kat told me," was all Hermione said.

"See, Hermione? There wasn't anything wrong with them!" said Ron.

"Well—there might have been!" said Hermione. "I mean, at least you know now that it's safe!"

"Yeah, I suppose so," said Harry. "I'd better put mine upstairs—here's yours Kat." He handed me my broom and I set it next to me and went back to translating my ancient runes.

"I'll take it!" said Ron eagerly. "I've got to give Scabbers his rat tonic."

He took Harry's Firebolt and, holding it as if it were made of glass, carried it away up the boys' staircase.

"Can I sit down, then?" Harry asked Hermione and I.

"I suppose so," said Hermione, moving a great stack of parchment off a chair.

Harry looked around at the cluttered table, at the long Arithmancy essay on which the ink was still glistening, at the even longer Muggle Studies essay ("Explain Why Muggles Need Electricity") and at the rune translation Hermione was now poring over with me.

"How are you two getting through all this stuff?" Harry asked us.

"Oh, well—you know—working hard," said Hermione. I rubbed my eyes tiredly and scribbled a few lines of my own Arithmancy essay down before switching to Muggle Studies.

"Why don't you just drop a couple of subjects?" Harry asked.

"We couldn't do that!" said Hermione, looking scandalized.

"Arithmancy looks terrible," said Harry, picking up my very complicated-looking number chart.

"Oh no, it's wonderful!" I said as Hermione nodded earnestly. "It's our favorite subject! It's—"

But at that precise moment, a strangled yell echoed down the boys' staircase. The whole common room fell silent, staring, petrified, at the entrance. Then came hurried footsteps, growing louder and louder—and then Ron came leaping into view, dragging with him a bedsheet.

"LOOK!" he bellowed, striding over to Hermione's table. "LOOK!" he yelled, shaking the sheets in her face.

"Ron, what—?"

"SCABBERS! LOOK! SCABBERS!"

Hermione was leaning away from Ron, looking utterly bewildered. Harry and I looked down at the sheet Ron was holding. There was something red on it. Something that looked horribly like—

"BLOOD!" Ron yelled into the stunned silence. "HE'S GONE! AND YOU KNOW WHAT WAS ON THE FLOOR?"

"N—no," said Hermione in a trembling voice.

Ron threw something down onto Hermione's rune translation. Hermione, Harry, and I leaned forward. Lying on top of the weird, spiky shapes were several long, ginger cat hairs.

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In-Line Comments

\- Lupin knew her when she was a baby so he knows she already knows how to cast a patronus since he taught her how; she just has to relearn the concept etc  
\- Mini contest/poll: what form should her patronus take? I'm torn on whether it should be a Phoenix cuz I might just have dumbledore give her fawkes at some point so would that be redundant? Let me know what y'all think! Or any other suggestions! Something Lilly/James/harry/snape related? Or more fire/dragon/lion/Phoenix/snake related? I'm leaning towards a snake right now


	51. Gryffindor v. Ravenclaw

Katrina's POV

It looked like the end of Ron and Hermione's friendship. Each was so angry with the other that Harry and I couldn't see how they'd ever make up.

Ron was enraged that Hermione had never taken Crookshanks's attempts to eat Scabbers seriously, hadn't bothered to keep a close enough watch on him, and was still trying to pretend that Crookshanks was innocent by suggesting that Ron look for Scabbers under all the boys' beds. Hermione, meanwhile, maintained fiercely that Ron had no proof that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers, that the ginger hairs might have been there since Christmas, and that Ron had been prejudiced against her cat ever since Crookshanks had landed on Ron's head in the Magical Menagerie.

Personally, I was sure that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers, but was far too busy to feel the need to point this out to Hermione and make her feel any worse than I knew she already felt. It wouldn't end well. Harry, unfortunately, didn't realize this and made the mistake of trying to make her see reason.

"Okay, side with Ron, I knew you would!" she said shrilly. "First the Firebolt, now Scabbers, everything's my fault, isn't it! Just leave me alone, Harry, I've got a lot of work to do!" I shrugged at Harry and went back to my own homework. As I scribbled answers down on the parchment, I struggled to keep my eyes open. A hard elbow to the side jolted me back to reality and I grimaced at Hermione.

"Thanks," I told her as I sat up straighter in my seat and tried to refocus; the words already dancing across the page again.

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Ron had taken the loss of his rat very hard indeed.

In a last-ditch attempt to cheer Ron up, Harry persuaded him to come along to the Gryffindor team's final practice before the Ravenclaw match, so that he could have a ride on his Firebolt after we'd finished. This did seem to take Ron's mind off Scabbers for a moment ("Great! Can I try and shoot a few goals on it?") so the three of us set off for the Quidditch field together.

Madam Hooch, who was still overseeing Gryffindor practices to keep an eye on Harry and I, was just as impressed with our Firebolts as everyone else had been. She took them in her hands before takeoff and gave us the benefit of her professional opinion.

She examined them for so long that Oliver was forced to step in.

"Er—Madam Hooch? Is it okay if Harry and Kat have their Firebolts back? We need to practice..."

"Oh—right—here you are, then," said Madam Hooch. "I'll sit over here with Weasley..."

She and Ron left the field to sit in the stadium, and the Gryffindor team gathered around Oliver for his final instructions for tomorrow's match.

"Harry, I've just found out who Ravenclaw is playing as Seeker. It's Cho Chang. She's a fourth year, and she's pretty good...I really hoped she wouldn't be fit, she's had some problems with injuries..." Oliver scowled his displeasure that Cho Chang had made a full recovery, then said, "On the other hand, she rides a Comet Two Sixty, which is going to look like a joke next to the Firebolt." He gave our brooms a look of fervent admiration, then said, "Okay, everyone, let's go—"

And at long last, Harry and I mounted our Firebolts, and kicked off from the ground.

It was better than I'd ever dreamed. The Firebolt turned with the lightest touch; it seemed to obey my thoughts rather than my grip; it sped across the field at such speed that the stadium turned into a green-and-gray blur; I turned it so sharply that Oliver, Fred, and George screamed, then dashed off towards the opposing goal hoops. We scrimmaged for a while before Oliver released the snitch and sent Harry after it.

We all watched as Harry turned and raced a Bludger toward the goal posts; he outstripped it easily, saw the Snitch dart out from behind Oliver, and within ten seconds had caught it tightly in his hand.

We all cheered madly. Harry let the Snitch go again, and we continued to scrimmage.

It was the best practice ever; the team, inspired by the presence of the Firebolts in their midst, performed their best moves faultlessly, and by the time we hit the ground again, Oliver didn't have a single criticism to make, which, as George Weasley pointed out, was a first.

"I can't see what's going to stop us tomorrow!" said Wood. "Not unless—Harry, Kat, you've sorted out your dementor problem, haven't you?"

"Yeah," said Harry and I, though I couldn't help thinking about the fact that I had yet to actually try it out like Harry had. What if I couldn't produce one if they showed up!

"The dementors won't turn up again, Oliver. Dumbledore'd go ballistic," said Fred confidently. I shook the negative thoughts away and tried to see the truth in Fred's words.

"Well, let's hope not," said Oliver. "Anyway—good work, everyone. Let's get back to the tower...turn in early—"

"I'm staying out for a bit; Ron wants a go on the Firebolt," Harry told Oliver, and while the rest of the team headed off to the locker rooms, Harry strode over to Ron, who vaulted the barrier to the stands and came to meet him. Madam Hooch had fallen asleep in her seat.

"Here you go," I heard Harry say, handing Ron the Firebolt.

Ron, an expression of ecstasy on his face, mounted the broom and zoomed off into the gathering darkness while Harry walked around the edge of the field, watching him.

I also watched; not having seen Ron fly since first year, until I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I jumped with a startled scream and turned around as fast as I could to see Cedric standing there. I saw Harry glance over when he heard me scream but when he saw Cedric he quickly turned back around. I squinted at him still not sure why he acted so strangely whenever he saw Cedric. Did the two of them not get along? They seemed friendly enough the few times I had seen them greet one another in passing!

"It's freezing! Here, take my jacket, Princess," Cedric said as he motioned to take his jacket off for me.

"No, you should keep it! Otherwise you'll just get cold as well," I said, shaking my head.

"I'll gladly endure a little cold if it means my princess is warm," Cedric said as he gave a small bow and all but forced the sweater over my shoulders.

I giggled and blushed at his theatrical antics. I ducked my head in embarrassment as he slung an arm around me and started walking me back to my room like usual. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Harry staring at us but couldn't concentrate on his weird behavior with Cedric's body so close to mine! How in merlin's name was a girl supposed to think clearly while standing so close to someone as handsome! I mean yes, I thought the same about Harry and Oliver, but they just thought of me as a friend; whereas, Cedric, well who knows what he thought at this point, but I couldn't help but think there was more than friendship here. Did it make me completely foolish for thinking so? I mean why would he of all people like me! I was just a lowly third year!

I sighed heavily that night after Hermione and I had finished our homework. I couldn't spend all my time obsessing over boys when I was barely making it through each day! There were far more important things to focus on! 

********************************************

I went down to breakfast the next morning with Hermione. We got there in time to see Harry arrive followed by an entourage of boys who were in love with his broom. They all seemed to think the Firebolt deserved a sort of guard of honor. Thankfully I had foreseen something like this happening and had decided to leave my broom locked up in the locker room so as to avoid the unwanted attention.

I sat next to Cedric and Hermione; watching as Harry was surrounded by adoring fans, as my two friends tried unsuccessfully to get me to eat some breakfast. 

At a quarter to eleven, the Gryffindor team set off for the locker rooms. The weather couldn't have been more different from our match against Hufflepuff. It was a clear, cool day with a very light breeze; there would be no visibility problems this time, and, though nervous, I was starting to feel the excitement only a Quidditch match could bring. 

We could hear the rest of the school moving into the stadium beyond. I took off my black school robes, removed my wand from the boot I was wearing (where I liked to stash it) and transferred it to my right quidditch boot where it would be most easily accessible. I only hoped I wouldn't need it. I wondered suddenly whether Professor Lupin was in the crowd, watching.

"You know what we've got to do," said Oliver as we prepared to leave the locker rooms. "If we lose this match, we're out of the running. Just—just fly like you did in practice yesterday, and we'll be okay!"

We walked out onto the field to tumultuous applause. The Ravenclaw team, dressed in blue, were already standing in the middle of the field. Their Seeker, Cho Chang, was the only girl on their team. She was shorter than Harry by about a head, and I couldn't help noticing, nervous as I was, that Harry blushed deep red as she smiled at him. I felt my stomach flip flop as I watched him return the smile hesitantly. The way he was looking at her made it clear as day that he would never feel the same about me as I did him...

Somehow I managed to discern Hermione's and Cedric's voices from the din of the crowd and mentally berated myself for letting the topic of boys distract me yet again. 

"Wood, Davies, shake hands," Madam Hooch said briskly, and Oliver shook hands with the Ravenclaw Captain.

"Mount your brooms...on my whistle... three—two—one—"

I kicked off into the air and the Firebolt zoomed higher and faster than any other broom but Harry's; I soared around the stadium and began squinting around for the quaffle, listening all the while to the commentary, which was being provided by the Weasley twins' friend Lee Jordan.

"They're off, and the big excitement this match is the Firebolts that Harry Potter and Katrina are flying for Gryffindor. According to Which Broomstick, the Firebolt's going to be the broom of choice for the national teams at this year's World Championship—"

"Jordan, would you mind telling us what's going on in the match?" interrupted Minnie's voice. I couldn't help laughing.

"Right you are, Professor—just giving a bit of background information—the Firebolt, incidentally, has a built-in auto-brake and—"

"Jordan!"

"Okay, okay, Gryffindor in possession, Katrina of Gryffindor heading for goal..."

I streaked past the Ravenclaw Chasers and made my way towards the goal posts, dodging a Bludger that had been aimed in my direction. 

"Show them your acceleration, Kat!" Fred yelled as he whooshed past in pursuit of the Bludger.

I urged the Firebolt forward as I rounded the Ravenclaw goal posts and the Chasers fell behind. Just as I succeeded in scoring the first goal of the match, and the Gryffindor end of the field went wild, I saw Harry dive for the Snitch that was close to the ground, flitting near one of the barriers.

I watched breathlessly but groaned as a Bludger sent by The Ravenclaw Beaters caused Harry to veer off course.

There was a great "Ooooooh" of disappointment from the Gryffindor supporters, but much applause for their Beater from the Ravenclaw end. George Weasley vented his feelings by hitting the second Bludger directly at the offending Beater, who was forced to roll right over in midair to avoid it.

"Gryffindor leads by eighty points to zero, and look at those Firebolts go! Potter and Katrina are really putting them through their paces now, see it turn—Chang's Comet is just no match for it, the Firebolt's precision-balance is really noticeable in these long—"

"JORDAN! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!"

Ravenclaw was pulling back; they had now scored three goals, which put Gryffindor only fifty points ahead—if Cho got the Snitch before Harry, Ravenclaw would win. I zoomed back and forth looking desperately for any chance to score. 

"HARRY, THIS IS NO TIME TO BE A GENTLEMAN!" I heard Oliver roar as Harry swerved to avoid a collision. "KNOCK HER OFF HER BROOM IF YOU HAVE TO!"

I shook my head at Harry's reaction to Cho and tried to focus on the Quaffle.

"Oh!" I heard several people scream right as I was about to score again. 

Distracted, I looked down.

Three dementors, three tall, black, hooded dementors, were looking up at me.

I didn't stop to think. Plunging a hand down to my boot, I whipped out my wand and roared, "Expecto patronum!"

Something silver-white erupted from the end of my wand. I knew it had shot directly at the dementors but didn't pause to watch; my mind still miraculously clear, I looked ahead—and scored one last goal right as I heard the whistle blow signaling the end of the game. I looked around knowing that meant someone had caught the Snitch. 

I turned around in midair and saw six scarlet blurs bearing down on Harry and I; next moment, the whole team was hugging us so hard I was nearly pulled off my broom. Down below I could hear the roars of the Gryffindors in the crowd.

"That's my boy! That's my girl!" Oliver kept yelling. Fred had Harry in a grip so tight it looked as though his head would come off. In complete disarray, we managed to make our way back to the ground. I got off my broom and looked up to see a gaggle of Gryffindor supporters sprinting onto the field, Ron, and Cedric in the lead. I couldn't see Hermione anywhere and assumed she must have headed back to the common room. I was distracted by the many arms that pulled me into tight hugs.

That is; until a pair of particular red and gold clad arms lifted me up and the next thing I knew, Oliver Wood had me in his arms and was kissing me! My eyes widened as I felt myself get swept away in the moment and feel of his lips as they pressed against mine. I couldn't believe I was having my first kiss! I was so caught up that I even forgot that there was a crowd of people watching us. 

Loud coughing drew my attention as strong arms yanked Oliver away from me. I looked around in confusion as I watched Fred and George angrily dragging Oliver towards the locker room shouting at him the whole way. As my eyes continued to take in the scene, I realized it had been Harry and Cedric who had cleared their throats. A lump formed in my own throat as my eyes went from green to hazel; acknowledging the stunned expressions that mirrored my own. 

I blinked still dazed, as Cedric huffed angrily and stormed off the field. I glanced at Harry but he had been pulled in by Professor Lupin; who was telling him that the dementors we had thought we saw were really Draco and his cronies, but I didn't care about that right now. 

I didn't even have time to comprehend the fact that Oliver had just kissed me! All I saw was the hurt look on Cedric's face. I waved my wand and transported my broom back to my room. Another wave of my wand and my normal clothes were back. That done, I dashed off after Cedric as fast as I could.

I followed the sound of his footsteps into the castle and up three flights of stairs before I finally spotted him.

"Cedric! Wait, please!" I called out to him as I struggled to catch my breath. I wasn't sure if he heard me or was choosing to ignore me but he didn't stop either way and I was forced to continue to tail him up more flights of stairs. With each step I took, the energy was draining from my body until I was stumbling like a drunkard. I cried out each time I banged my shins but I was too focused on catching up to Cedric that I didn't care. 

But as I reached the top of the next staircase and gasped out for him to stop again, I felt the last of my energy leave my body and I collapsed as my world went black.

********************************************

Harry's POV

"Come on, Harry!" said George, fighting his way over to me after he and Fred had finished shouting at Oliver. I still couldn't believe he had kissed Kat! I mashed my teeth together and clenched my hands into fists as I thought about what had just happened.

"Party! Gryffindor common room, now!"

"Right," I said, momentarily putting Kat out of my head and focusing on feeling happier than I had in ages.

It felt as though we had already won the Quidditch Cup; the party went on all day and well into the night. Fred and George Weasley disappeared for a couple of hours and returned with armfuls of bottles of butterbeer, pumpkin fizz, and several bags full of Honeydukes sweets.

"How did you do that?" squealed Angelina Johnson as George started throwing Peppermint Toads into the crowd.

"With a little help from Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," Fred muttered in my ear.

Only two people weren't joining in the festivities. Kat and Hermione. Kat hadn't been seen since she'd dashed off after Cedric and to be frank, I didn't care at the moment where she was or what she was doing. If I had to guess, she was probably kissing up to that sorry excuse for a Seeker; figuratively and for all I knew, literally. 

Hermione on the other hand, incredibly, was sitting in a corner, attempting to read an enormous book entitled Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles. I broke away from the table where Fred and George had started juggling butterbeer bottles and went over to her.

"Did you even come to the match?" I asked her.

"Of course I did," said Hermione in a strangely high-pitched voice, not looking up. "And I'm very glad we won, and I think you did really well, but I need to read this by Monday."

"Come on, Hermione, come and have some food," I said, looking over at Ron and wondering whether he was in a good enough mood to bury the hatchet.

"I can't, Harry. I've still got four hundred and twenty-two pages to read!" said Hermione, now sounding slightly hysterical. "Anyway..." She glanced over at Ron too. "He doesn't want me to join in."

There was no arguing with this, as Ron chose that moment to say loudly, "If Scabbers hadn't just been eaten, he could have had some of those Fudge Flies. He used to really like them—"

Hermione burst into tears. Before I could say or do anything, she tucked the enormous book under her arm, and, still sobbing, ran toward the staircase to the girls' dormitories and out of sight.

"Can't you give her a break?" I asked Ron quietly.

"No," said Ron flatly. "If she just acted like she was sorry—but she'll never admit she's wrong, Hermione. She's still acting like Scabbers has gone on vacation or something."

The Gryffindor party ended only when Professor McGonagall turned up in her tartan dressing gown and hair net at one in the morning, to insist that we all go to bed. Ron and I climbed the stairs to our dormitory, still discussing the match. At last, exhausted, I climbed into bed, twitched the hangings of my four-poster shut to block out a ray of moonlight, lay back, and felt myself almost instantly drifting off to sleep...

I had a very strange dream. I was watching again as Oliver kissed my Kat, and then the scene switched and Oliver was replaced by Cedric, and then it was Dean, Seamus, Malfoy, Ron, Fred, George, everyone but me...then finally, I was the one standing in front of Kat as she looked up out of those beautiful blue eyes of hers and leaned into me. Our lips were inches apart, about to touch when -

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

I woke as suddenly as though I'd been hit in the face. Disoriented in the total darkness, I fumbled with my hangings—I could hear movements around me, and Seamus Finnigan's voice from the other side of the room: "What's going on?"

I thought I heard the dormitory door slam. At last finding the divide in my curtains, I ripped them back, and at the same moment, Dean Thomas lit his lamp.

Ron was sitting up in bed, the hangings torn from one side, a look of utmost terror on his face.

"Black! Sirius Black! With a knife!"

"What?"

"Here! Just now! Slashed the curtains! Woke me up!"

"You sure you weren't dreaming, Ron?" said Dean.

"Look at the curtains! I tell you, he was here!"

We all scrambled out of bed; I reached the dormitory door first, and we sprinted back down the staircase. Doors opened behind us, and sleepy voices called after them.

"Who shouted?"

"What're you doing?"

The common room was lit with the glow of the dying fire, still littered with the debris from the party. It was deserted.

"Are you sure you weren't dreaming, Ron?"

"I'm telling you, I saw him! 

"What's all the noise?"

"Professor McGonagall told us to go to bed!"

A few of the girls had come down their staircase, pulling on dressing gowns and yawning. Boys, too, were reappearing.

"Excellent, are we carrying on?" said Fred Weasley brightly.

"Everyone back upstairs!" said Percy, hurrying into the common room and pinning his Head Boy badge to his pajamas as he spoke.

"Perce—Sirius Black!" said Ron faintly. "In our dormitory! With a knife! Woke me up!"

The common room went very still.

"Nonsense!" said Percy, looking startled. "You had too much to eat, Ron—had a nightmare—"

"I'm telling you—"

"Now, really, enough's enough!"

Professor McGonagall was back. She slammed the portrait behind her as she entered the common room and stared furiously around.

"I am delighted that Gryffindor won the match, but this is getting ridiculous! Percy, I expected better of you!"

"I certainly didn't authorize this, Professor!" said Percy, puffing himself up indignantly. "I was just telling them all to get back to bed! My brother Ron here had a nightmare—"

"IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE!" Ron yelled. "PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP, AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE! 

Professor McGonagall stared at him.

"Don't be ridiculous, Weasley, how could he possibly have gotten through the portrait hole?"

"Ask him!" said Ron, pointing a shaking finger at the back of Sir Cadogan's picture. "Ask him if he saw—"

Glaring suspiciously at Ron, Professor McGonagall pushed the portrait back open and went outside. The whole common room listened with bated breath.

"Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man enter Gryffindor Tower?"

"Certainly, good lady!" cried Sir Cadogan.

There was a stunned silence, both inside and outside the common room.

"You—you did?" said Professor McGonagall. "But—but the password!"

"He had 'em!" said Sir Cadogan proudly. "Had the whole week's, my lady! Read 'em off a little piece of paper! Then he asked if I knew where he might find Katrina; I told him she was in the hospital; the poor girl!

Professor McGonagall pulled herself back through the portrait hole to face the stunned crowd. She was white as chalk.

"Which person," she said, her voice shaking, "which abysmally foolish person wrote down this week's passwords and left them lying around?"

There was utter silence, broken by the smallest of terrified squeaks. Neville Longbottom, trembling from head to fluffy-slippered toes, raised his hand slowly into the air.

My mind raced as Sir Cadogan's last words rang in my head. Why was Kat in the hospital! What had happened! Had Sirius gotten to her! But from the way it sounded, she'd been in the hospital before Sirius arrived, so then what else could have happened!

********************************************

\- AN: OMG Kat finally had her first kiss! Comment what you thought of my little plot twist! Did I manage to surprise you? Hehehe


	52. Snape’s Grudge

Sirius Black's POV

(As I mentioned, Sirius knows he's not Kat's biological father but since he raised her with Eliana until he got sent to Azkaban, he considers her his daughter - from now on if I refer to Kat's father I mean Sirius; if I'm talking about Riddle I'll write father hope that's clear enough of a distinction for everyone!)

I stared down at my beautiful little girl as she lay pale and lifeless on the hospital cot. I had rushed over when I heard someone mention that she'd collapsed in the hall; fearing the worst. I had to get to Peter before he hurt my baby! I refused to let him destroy the last of my family or my godson!

I glanced over to see my girl's hand was being held by some sixth year boy who was fast asleep next to her. Who was he? She wasn't old enough for a boyfriend yet! I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I had to deal with Peter first before I could ever hope to get my daughter back; assuming she'd ever want me in her life after everything that had happened. Either way, I needed to protect her and Harry. 

I reached into my tattered prison robes and pulled out the picture that I fell asleep to every night. I stared down at the giggling baby as I chased her around the room until she was picked up by my wife who cradled her in her arms. I sighed and touched the picture version of my wife before placing the picture on the bedside table next to Kat. She deserved to have at least one picture of the three of us all together; happy and smiling - before everything went wrong.

Katrina's POV

I blinked slowly as I opened my eyes. I motioned to bring my hand to my head when I realized that it was attached to something. I looked over to see Cedric looking at me blearily as he too woke up at my movement.

"Cedric? What's going on? Where am I?" I asked, still confused.

He sat up straighter and brought his chair closer to me, still holding my hand in his. 

"You collapsed, princess. You haven't eaten in days and what with all the long sleepless nights you and Hermione have been pulling, the quidditch practices, and running up the stairs after me, you wore your body out! Why didn't you just stay on the field! Why did you have to come after me!"

I sat up slowly and looked into Cedric's hazel eyes. I spotted flecks of gold here and there; they were beautiful and I knew I could get lost in them. "You, you looked upset and I don't want you angry with me! Everything happened so fast and I..." I dropped off as I struggled to find the words to express my feelings.

"I could never be mad at you, princess! I'm just...Oliver should never have taken advantage of you like that! He should know better! He -" Cedric broke off as I tilted my head to look at him in surprise. I'd never heard him talk in that tone of voice before.

"It doesn't matter, anyways, you need to eat, princess! I will not take no for an answer. I am going to sit here and watch you eat this entire plate of food!" He motioned to a plate on my bedside table that had been piled high with food. I shook my head, still not feeling hungry. 

Cedric grabbed the plate and speared a slice of pancake onto the fork and held it up to my mouth. As he picked up the plate, I noticed a piece of paper had been placed on the table as well. I opened my mouth to point this out to Cedric, only to find it filled with pancake.

"Mfffmmmghh" was all that came out as I tried to swallow as fast as I could. When I finished, I glared at Cedric; who had a twinkling gleam of mischief in his eyes, and leaned over to pick up the note.

It wasn't a note though, it was a picture. I stared down at the little girl as she ran around the living room being chased by an older man who looked like the man I'd seen standing next to Harry's father as best man at his Parent's wedding. I continued to watch as the baby me ran around and was picked up by a woman with blond hair. I felt my eyes water as I noticed the Phoenix necklace that dangled from her graceful neck.

This was my mom! Which meant that the man had to be none other than Sirius Black; my father. Tears spilled down my cheeks as I looked at the three of us in the picture. We looked so happy and carefree.

"Princess! What's the matter? Why are you crying!" Cedric pulled me out of bed and onto his lap as I continued to sob. The weight of the last few months finally crashing down. 

"M-my p-parents! It's my p-parents and me! Oh Ced! He looks so innocent but he's a horrible man! H-how could he do what he did?"

"What are you talking about, little one?"

"My-my father...he's a bad man, a horrible man!"

"Oh, I'm sure that's not true, princess! Everyone makes mistakes, whatever he did I'm sure it wasn't as bad as it may seem." Cedric wiped my tears away and pushed my hair back behind my ears but I couldn't stand to look at him for too long before I buried my head in his shoulder and started balling my eyes out again.

"Y-you d-don't understand!" I wailed. "It's Sirius Black, Sirius Black is my father! I f-found out last Hogsmead trip, I-I don't think I was supposed to find out...what am I supposed to do? I don't want to turn out to be anything like him! But how can I avoid it when being evil is in my blood?"

Cedric was silent for a long moment as he took in what I'd just told him. Then he wrapped his arms around me even tighter and whispered into my ear.

"You're nothing like your father, little one! You are the sweetest and kindest person I have ever met." I shook my head again.

"I mean that! You are always there to help anyone no matter what! There's no way you will ever turn out like Sirius Black! You're too strong, whatever evil may or may not be inside you, it will never win!"

Eventually Cedric managed to calm me down enough to get me eating again. I finished the plate of food and picked up the picture again, a new thought suddenly coming to me.

"Hey Ced, who left the picture here? It certainly isn't mine!"

We looked at each other before Cedric suddenly stood up and dashed out of the room. When he came back he looked flustered.

"I just told Professor McGonagall and she informed me that Sirius Black was in the castle last night!" He told me about what had happened to Ron and I sat up straight, fear running through my veins. Was it possible my father had been standing right next to me last night and left me the picture? I shuddered and Cedric pulled me close again.

"Don't worry, princess, I won't let him hurt you!" 

********************************************

Harry's POV

No one in Gryffindor Tower slept that night. We knew that the castle was being searched again, and the whole House stayed awake in the common room, waiting to hear whether Black had been caught. Professor McGonagall came back at dawn, to tell us that he had again escaped.

I pulled her aside afterwards and asked her what had happened to Kat. My eyes widened in fear as she told me that Black had apparently gone to see her in the Hospital wing; she'd collapsed after the quidditch game from lack of food and sleep. I mentally smacked my forehead as I realized why Kat hadn't been eating lately. As her best friend, I should have been paying more attention! I guess I should be glad that Cedric was there making sure she was safe; but that didn't mean I suddenly liked the guy...

Katrina's POV

Madam Pomfrey agreed to release me under the condition that I eat three full meals for the next week. Cedric promised her that he would make sure that I did and I groaned as I saw the determined look in his eyes. I still wasn't feeling very hungry but I knew there was no way Cedric was going to let me get away with pushing my food around my plate anymore...

Throughout the day, everywhere we went we saw signs of tighter security; Professor Flitwick could be seen teaching the front doors to recognize a large picture of Sirius Black; Filch was suddenly bustling up and down the corridors, boarding up everything from tiny cracks in the walls to mouse holes. Sir Cadogan had been fired. His portrait had been taken back to its lonely landing on the seventh floor, and the Fat Lady was back. She had been expertly restored, but was still extremely nervous, and had agreed to return to her job only on condition that she was given extra protection. A bunch of surly security trolls had been hired to guard her. They paced the corridor in a menacing group, talking in grunts and comparing the size of their clubs.

Harry and I couldn't help noticing that the statue of the one-eyed witch on the third floor remained unguarded and unblocked. It seemed that Fred and George had been right in thinking that they—and now Harry, Ron, Hermione and I, were the only ones who knew about the hidden passageway within it.

"D'you reckon we should tell someone?" Harry asked Ron and I.

"We know he's not coming in through Honeyduke's," said Ron dismissively "We'd've heard if the shop had been broken into."

I knew Harry was glad he agreed with him because he was looking forward to the next Hogsmead trip. I, on the other hand, was more concerned with my homework and avoiding thoughts of my father to care much about Harry sneaking off to Hogsmead again when we both knew he shouldn't. 

Ron had become an instant celebrity. For the first time in his life, people were paying more attention to him than to Harry, and it was clear that Ron was rather enjoying the experience. Though still severely shaken by the night's events, he was happy to tell anyone who asked what had happened, with a wealth of detail.

Hermione and I were obviously torn up about the whole event; worried that Ron could have been seriously hurt, but he still wasn't talking to us so we spent our time in Hagrids hut with Drake and Buckbeak, trying to find a way for him to make a solid case.

I loved watching Drake interact with Buckbeak. The two of them were so cute together! Buckbeak would walk around Hagrid's pumpkin patch with Drake riding on his back and they would fall asleep at night curled up next to each other. They were the best of friends.

Harry's POV

The school owls swooped into the Great Hall carrying the mail as usual, and I saw Neville choke as a huge barn owl landed in front of him, a scarlet envelope clutched in its beak. Ron and I, who were sitting opposite him, recognized the letter as a Howler at once—Ron had got one from his mother the year before.

"Run for it, Neville," Ron advised.

Neville didn't need telling twice. He seized the envelope, and holding it before him like a bomb, sprinted out of the hall, while the Slytherin table exploded with laughter at the sight of him. We heard the Howler go off in the entrance hall—Neville's grandmother's voice, magically magnified to a hundred times its usual volume, shrieking about how he had brought shame on the whole family.

I was too busy feeling sorry for Neville to notice immediately that I had a letter too. Hedwig got my attention by nipping me sharply on the wrist.

"Ouch! Oh—thanks, Hedwig."

I tore open the envelope while Hedwig helped herself to some of Neville's cornflakes. The note inside said:

Dear Harry and Ron,

How about having tea with me this afternoon 'round six?

I'll come and collect you from the castle.

WAIT FOR ME IN THE ENTRANCE HALL;

YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED OUT ON YOUR OWN.

Cheers,

Hagrid

"He probably wants to hear all about Black!" said Ron.

So at six o'clock that afternoon, Ron and I left Gryffindor Tower, passed the security trolls at a run, and headed down to the entrance hall.

Hagrid was already waiting for us.

"All right, Hagrid!" said Ron. "S'pose you want to hear about Saturday night, do you?"

"I've already heard all abou' it," said Hagrid, opening the front doors and leading us outside.

"Oh," said Ron, looking slightly put out.

The first thing we saw on entering Hagrid's cabin was Buckbeak, who was stretched out on top of Hagrid's patchwork quilt, his enormous wings folded tight to his body, enjoying a large plate of dead ferrets. Averting my eyes from this unpleasant sight, I saw a gigantic, hairy brown suit and a very horrible yellow-and-orange tie hanging from the top of Hagrid's wardrobe door.

"What are they for, Hagrid?" I asked as Drake came flying over to land on my shoulder. He was a dark blue at the moment. I stroked his head as I looked at Hagrid.

"Buckbeak's case against the Committee fer the Disposal o' Dangerous Creatures," said Hagrid. "This Friday. Him an' me'll be goin' down ter London together. I've booked two beds on the Knight Bus..."

I felt a nasty pang of guilt as I continued to stroke Drake. I had completely forgotten that Buckbeak's trial was so near, and judging by the uneasy look on Ron's face, he had too. We had also forgotten our promise about helping him prepare Buckbeak's defense; the arrival of the Firebolts had driven it clean out of our minds.

Hagrid poured us tea and offered us a plate of Bath buns, but we knew better than to accept; we had had too much experience with Hagrid's cooking.

"I got somethin' ter discuss with you two," said Hagrid, sitting himself between us and looking uncharacteristically serious.

"What?" I said.

"Hermione and Kat," said Hagrid.

"What about them?" said Ron.

"They're in a righ' state, that's what. Bin comin' down ter visit me a lot since Chris'mas. Bin feelin' lonely. Firs' yeh weren' talking to Hermione because o' the Firebolt, now yer not talkin' to her because her cat—"

"—ate Scabbers!" Ron interjected angrily.

"Because her cat acted like all cats do," Hagrid continued doggedly. "They've  cried a fair few times, yeh know. Goin' through a rough time at the moment. Bitten off more'n they can chew, if yeh ask me, all the work they're tryin' ter do. Still found time ter help me with Buckbeak's case, mind...

They've found some really good stuff fer me...reckon he'll stand a good chance now..."

"Hagrid, we should've helped as well—sorry—" I began awkwardly. I stroked Drake as I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach over his words about Kat. I knew it wasn't the homework that had her so upset but Hagrid didn't know she'd heard about Sirius's relation to her. 

"I'm not blamin' yeh!" said Hagrid, waving my apology aside. "Gawd knows yeh've had enough ter be gettin' on with. I've seen yeh practicin' Quidditch ev'ry hour o' the day an' night—I told Kat she needn't have bothered but you know her-but I gotta tell yeh, I thought you two'd value yer friends more'n broomsticks or rats. Tha's all."

Ron and I exchanged uncomfortable looks.

"Really upset, they were, when Black nearly stabbed yeh, Ron. Hearts in the right place, an' you two not talkin' to em-"

"If she'd just get rid of that cat, I'd speak to her again!" Ron said angrily. "But she's still sticking up for it! It's a maniac, and she won't hear a word against it!"

"Ah, well, people can be a bit stupid abou' their pets," said Hagrid wisely. Behind him, Buckbeak spat a few ferret bones onto Hagrid's pillow. Drake flew off my shoulder and landed next to the Hippogriff. They nudged shoulders and Buckbeak let Drake clamber onto his back; where he fell asleep immediately.

We spent the rest of our visit discussing Gryffindor's improved chances for the Quidditch Cup. At nine o'clock, Hagrid walked us back up to the castle.

A large group of people were bunched around the bulletin board when we returned to the common room.

"Hogsmeade, next weekend!" said Ron, craning over the heads to read the new notice. "What d'you reckon?" he added quietly to me as we went to sit down.

"Well, Filch hasn't done anything about the passage into Honeydukes..." I said, even more quietly.

"Harry!" said a voice in my right ear. I started and looked around at Hermione and Kat who were sitting at the table right behind us and clearing a space in the wall of books that had been hiding them.

"Harry, if you go into Hogsmeade again...I'll tell Professor McGonagall about that map!" said Hermione. I saw Kat look from her to me in surprise but she kept her mouth shut not knowing who's side to support.

"Can you hear someone talking, Harry?" growled Ron, not looking at Hermione.

"Ron, how can you let him go with you? After what Sirius Black nearly did to you! I mean it, I'll tell—"

"So now you're trying to get Harry expelled!" said Ron furiously. "Haven't you done enough damage this year?"

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but with a soft hiss, Crookshanks leapt onto her lap. Hermione took one frightened look at the expression on Ron's face, gathered up Crookshanks, and hurried away toward the girls' dormitories. Kat sighed and moved to follow but I reached my arm out to stop her.

"Kat, I - is everything ok? I heard you were in the hospital. If you need to talk - you know I'm always here for you, right?" 

Kat walked over to me and paused for a second. I shifted uncomfortably not knowing what to do. I'd been so distant with her lately I wouldn't blame her if she never wanted to talk to me again. But the next thing I knew, her arms were around me. 

"I know, Harry. The same goes for you, you know that. I'm just - just having a little trouble comprehending that I come from someone as evil as Sirius and there's all my classes, but that's life. It'll sort itself out in the end; I hope. Look I really should get after Hermione. I'll try and convince her not to go to Professor McGonagall, but Harry, she is right. I won't tell you not to, but it really wouldn't be wise for you to go into Hogsmead! I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you!"

I hugged her tightly and pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear before kissing her cheek. I grinned as she blushed and dashed up the stairs after Hermione. She was absolutely adorable when she blushed! But I couldn't think of her like that! Especially not if something was going on with her and Cedric! 

"So how about it?" Ron said to me as though there had been no interruption. "Come on, last time we went you didn't see anything. You haven't even been inside Zonko's yet!"

I looked around to check that Hermione and Kat were well out of earshot.

"Okay," I said. "But I'm taking the Invisibility Cloak this time."

On Saturday morning, I packed my Invisibility Cloak in my bag, slipped the Marauder's Map into my pocket, and went down to breakfast with everyone else. Hermione and Kat kept shooting suspicious looks at me from the Hufflepuff table where they sat with Cedric, but I avoided their eyes and was careful to let them see me walking back up the marble staircase in the entrance hall as everybody else proceeded to the front doors. I hated seeing Kat sitting there but was glad to see that Cedric was managing to get Kat to eat more at the very least. 

"'Bye!" I called to Ron. "See you when you get back!"

Ron grinned and winked.

********************************************

Back into Honeydukes, back down the cellar steps, across the stone floor, through the trapdoor—I pulled off the cloak, tucked it under my arm, and ran, flat out, along the passage...Malfoy would get back first...how long would it take him to find a teacher? Panting, a sharp pain in my side, I didn't slow down until I reached the stone slide. 

I would have to leave the cloak where it was, it was too much of a giveaway in case Malfoy had tipped off a teacher—I hid it in a shadowy corner, then started to climb, fast as I could, my sweaty hands slipping on the sides of the chute. I reached the inside of the witch's hump, tapped it with my wand, stuck my  head through, and hoisted myself out; the hump closed, and just as I jumped out from behind the statue, I heard quick footsteps approaching.

It was Snape. He approached me at a swift walk, his black robes swishing, then stopped in front of him.

"So," he said.

There was a look of suppressed triumph about him. I tried to look innocent, all too aware of my sweaty face and muddy hands, which I quickly hid in my pockets.

"Come with me, Potter," said Snape.

********************************************

"I—gave—Harry—that—stuff," Ron choked out as he ran into Snape's office. Bought—it...in Zonko's...ages—ago..."

"Well!" said Lupin, clapping his hands together and looking around cheerfully. "That seems to clear that up! Severus, I'll take this back, shall I?" He folded the map and tucked it inside his robes. "Harry, Ron, come with me, I need a word about my vampire essay—excuse us, Severus—"

I didn't dare look at Snape as we left his office. Ron, Lupin, and I walked all the way back into the entrance hall before speaking. Then I turned to Lupin.

"Professor, I—"

"I don't want to hear explanations," said Lupin shortly. He glanced around the empty entrance hall and lowered his voice. "I happen to know that this map was confiscated by Mr. Filch many years ago. Yes, I know it's a map," he said as Ron and I looked amazed. "I don't want to know how it fell into your possession. I am, however, astounded that you didn't hand it in. Particularly after what happened the last time a student left information about the castle lying around. And I can't let you have it back, Harry."

I had expected that, and was too keen for explanations to protest.

"Why did Snape think I'd got it from the manufacturers?"

"Because...," Lupin hesitated, "because these mapmakers would have wanted to lure you out of school. They'd think it extremely entertaining."

"Do you know them?" I said, impressed.

"We've met," he said shortly. He was looking at me more seriously than ever before.

"Don't expect me to cover up for you again, Harry. I cannot make you take Sirius Black seriously. But I would have thought that what you have heard when the dementors draw near you would have had more of an effect on you. Your parents gave their lives to keep you alive, Harry. A poor way to repay them—gambling their sacrifice for a bag of magic tricks. Not to mention, you risk endangering Katrina's life as well!"

He walked away, leaving me feeling worse by far than I had at any point in Snape's office. Slowly, Ron and I mounted the marble staircase. As I passed the one-eyed witch, I remembered the Invisibility Cloak—it was still down there, but I didn't dare go and get it.

"It's my fault," said Ron abruptly. "I persuaded you to go. Lupin's right, it was stupid, we shouldn't've done it—"

He broke off; we reached the corridor where the security trolls were pacing, and Hermione and Kat were walking toward us. One look at their faces convinced us that they had heard what had happened. My heart plummeted—had they told Professor McGonagall?

"Come to have a good gloat?" said Ron savagely as they stopped in front of us. "Or have you just been to tell on us?"

"No," said Hermione. She was holding a letter in her hands and her lip was trembling. "I just thought you ought to know...Hagrid lost his case. Buckbeak is going to be executed."


	53. The Quidditch Final

Katrina's POV

He—he sent me this," Hermione said, holding out the letter to Harry, who took it and read it as Ron looked over his shoulder.

Dear Hermione and Katrina,

We lost. I'm allowed to bring him back to Hogwarts.

Execution date to be fixed.

Beaky has enjoyed London.

I won't forget all the help you gave us.

Hagrid

"They can't do this," said Harry. "They can't. Buckbeak isn't dangerous."

"Draco's dad's frightened the Committee into it," I said, wiping my eyes. "You know what he's like. They're a bunch of doddery old fools, and they were scared. There'll be an appeal, though, there always is. Only we can't see any hope...Nothing will have changed." Hermione and I shared downtrodden looks.

"Yeah, it will," said Ron fiercely. "You won't have to do all the work alone this time. I'll help."

"Oh, Ron!"

Hermione flung her arms around Ron's neck and broke down completely. Ron, looking quite terrified, patted her very awkwardly on the top of the head. Finally, Hermione drew away.

"Ron, I'm really, really sorry about Scabbers...," she sobbed.

"Oh—well—he was old," said Ron, looking thoroughly relieved that she had let go of him. "And he was a bit useless. You never know, Mum and Dad might get me an owl now."

The safety measures imposed on the students since Black's second break-in made it impossible for Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I to go and visit Hagrid in the evenings. Our only chance of talking to him was during Care of Magical Creatures lessons.

He seemed numb with shock at the verdict.

"S'all my fault. Got all tongue-tied. They was all sittin' there in black robes an' I kep' droppin' me notes and forgettin' all them dates yeh looked up fer me, Hermione, Katrina. An' then Lucius Malfoy stood up an' said his bit, and the Committee jus' did exac'ly what he told 'em..."

"There's still the appeal!" said Ron fiercely. "Don't give up yet, we're working on it!"

We were walking back up to the castle with the rest of the class. Ahead we could see Draco, who was walking with Crabbe and Goyle, and kept looking back, laughing derisively. I glared at my blond-haired friend. Maybe it was because we hadn't hung out in a while but he had been acting like a real jerk lately. I was starting to wonder why I was ever friends with him...

"S'no good, Ron," said Hagrid sadly as we reached the castle steps. "That Committee's in Lucius Malfoy's pocket. I'm jus' gonna make sure the rest o' Beaky's time is the happiest he's ever had. I owe him that...Drake is good company for him at least."

Hagrid turned around and hurried back toward his cabin, his face buried in his handkerchief.

"Look at him blubber!"

Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle had been standing just inside the castle doors, listening.

"Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?" said Draco. "And he's supposed to be our teacher!"

Harry and Ron both made furious moves toward Malfoy, but Hermione got there first—SMACK!

She had slapped Draco across the face with all the strength she could muster. Draco staggered. Harry, Ron, Crabbe, and Goyle stood flabbergasted as Hermione raised her hand again.

"Don't you dare call Hagrid pathetic, you foul—you evil—"

"No Hermione, let me do it this time!" I told her and then it was my turn. SMACK!

"Hermione! Katrina!" said Ron weakly, and he tried to grab our hands as we swung back again.

"Get off, Ron!"

Hermione and I pulled out our wands. Draco stepped backward. Crabbe and Goyle looked at him for instructions, thoroughly bewildered.

"C'mon," Draco muttered, looking at me with a shocked and hurt expression on his face and in a moment, all three of them had disappeared into the passageway to the dungeons.

"Hermione!" Ron said again, sounding both stunned and impressed.

"Harry, Kat, you'd better beat him in the Quidditch final!" Hermione said shrilly. "You just better had, because I can't stand it if Slytherin wins!"

"We're due in Charms," said Ron, still goggling at Hermione and I. "We'd better go."

We hurried up the marble staircase toward Professor Flitwick's classroom.

Harry's POV

"You're late, boys!" said Professor Flitwick reprovingly as I opened the classroom door. "Come along, quickly, wands out, we're experimenting with Cheering Charms today, we've already divided into pairs—"

Ron and I hurried to a desk at the back and opened our bags. Ron looked behind him.

"Where have Hermione and Katrina gone?"

I looked around too. Hermione and Kat hadn't entered the classroom, yet I knew they had been right next to me when I had opened the door.

"That's weird," I said, staring at Ron. "Maybe—maybe they went to the bathroom or something?"

But neither Hermione or Kat turned up all lesson.

"They could've done with a Cheering Charm on them too," said Ron as the class left for lunch, all grinning broadly—the Cheering Charms had left us with a feeling of great contentment.

Hermione and Kat weren't at lunch either. By the time we had finished our apple pie, the after-effects of the Cheering Charms were wearing off, and Ron and I had started to get slightly worried.

"You don't think Malfoy did something to them?" Ron said anxiously as we hurried upstairs toward Gryffindor Tower.

We passed the security trolls, gave the Fat Lady the password ("Flibbertigibbet"), and scrambled through the portrait hole into the common room.

Hermione and Kat were sitting at a table, fast asleep, their heads resting on an open Arithmancy book. We went to sit down on either side of them. Ron shook Hermione awake while I prodded Kat.

"Wh—what?" said Hermione and Kat, waking with a start and staring wildly around. "Is it time to go? W—which lesson have we got now?

"Divination, but it's not for another twenty minutes," I said. "Hermione, Kat, why didn't you come to Charms?"

"What? Oh no!" Hermione squeaked. "We forgot to go to Charms!"

"But how could you forget?" said Ron. "You were with us till we were right outside the classroom!"

"I don't believe it!" Hermione wailed. "Was Professor Flitwick angry? Oh, it was Malfoy, we were thinking about him and lost track of things!"

"You know what?" said Ron, looking down at the enormous Arithmancy book they had been using as a pillow. "I reckon you're cracking up. You're trying to do too much."

"No, we're not!" said Hermione, brushing her hair out of her eyes and staring hopelessly around for her bag. "We just made a mistake, that's all! We'd better go and see Professor Flitwick and say sorry...I'll see you in Divination!" She tugged Kat out of her chair and the two raced out of the room.

Hermione and Kat joined us at the foot of the ladder to Professor Trelawney's classroom twenty minutes later, looking extremely harassed.

"I can't believe we missed Cheering Charms! And I bet they come up in our exams; Professor Flitwick hinted they might!"

Together we climbed the ladder into the dim, stifling tower room. Glowing on every little table was a crystal ball full of pearly white mist. Ron, Hermione, Kat, and I sat down together at the same rickety table.

"I thought we weren't starting crystal balls until next term," Ron muttered, casting a wary eye around for Professor Trelawney, in case she was lurking nearby.

"Don't complain, this means we've finished palmistry," I muttered back. "I was getting sick of her flinching every time she looked at my hands." Kat nodded sleepily in agreement.

"Good day to you!" said the familiar, misty voice, and Professor Trelawney made her usual dramatic entrance out of the shadows. Parvati and Lavender quivered with excitement, their faces lit by the milky glow of their crystal ball.

"I have decided to introduce the crystal ball a little earlier than I had planned," said Professor Trelawney, sitting with her back to the fire and gazing around. "The fates have informed me that your examination in June will concern the Orb, and I am anxious to give you sufficient practice."

Hermione snorted.

"Well, honestly...'the fates have informed her'...who sets the exam? She does! What an amazing prediction!" she said, not troubling to keep her voice low. We all choked back laughs.

It was hard to tell whether Professor Trelawney had heard us, as her face was hidden in shadow. She continued, however, as though she had not.

"Crystal gazing is a particularly refined art," she said dreamily. "I do not expect any of you to See when first you peer into the Orb's infinite depths. We shall start by practicing relaxing the conscious mind and external eyes"—Ron began to snigger uncontrollably and had to stuff his fist in his mouth to stifle the noise—"so as to clear the Inner Eye and the superconscious. Perhaps, if we are lucky, some of you will See before the end of the class."

And so we began. I, at least, felt extremely foolish, staring blankly at the crystal ball, trying to keep my mind empty when thoughts such as "this is stupid" kept drifting across it. It didn't help that Ron kept breaking into silent giggles and Hermione kept tutting.

"Seen anything yet?" I asked them after a quarter of an hour's quiet crystal gazing.

"Yeah, there's a burn on this table," said Ron, pointing. "Someone's spilled their candle."

"This is such a waste of time," Hermione hissed. "Kat and I could be practicing something useful. We could be catching up on Cheering Charms—"

Professor Trelawney rustled past.

"Would anyone like me to help them interpret the shadowy portents within their Orb?" she murmured over the clinking of her bangles.

"I don't need help," Ron whispered. "It's obvious what this means. There's going to be loads of fog tonight."

All four of us burst out laughing.

"Now, really!" said Professor Trelawney as everyone's heads turned in our direction. Parvati and Lavender were looking scandalized. "You are disturbing the clairvoyant vibrations!" She approached our table and peered into our crystal ball. I felt my heart sinking as I shared a look with Kat. We were sure we knew what was coming—

"There is something here!" Professor Trelawney whispered, lowering her face to the ball, so that it was reflected twice in her huge glasses. "Something moving...but what is it?"

I was prepared to bet everything I owned, including my Firebolt, that it wasn't good news, whatever it was. And sure enough—

"My dears...," Professor Trelawney breathed, gazing up at Kat and I. "It is here, plainer than ever before...my dears, stalking toward you, growing ever closer...the Gr—"

"Oh, for goodness' sake!" said Hermione loudly. "Not that ridiculous Grim again!"

Professor Trelawney raised her enormous eyes to Hermione's face. Parvati whispered something to Lavender, and they both glared at Hermione too. Professor Trelawney stood up, surveying Hermione with unmistakable anger.

"I am sorry to say that from the moment you have arrived in this class, my dear, it has been apparent that you do not have what the noble art of Divination requires. Indeed, I don't remember ever meeting a student whose mind was so hopelessly mundane."

There was a moment's silence. Then—

"Fine!" said Hermione suddenly, getting up and cramming Unfogging the Future back into her bag. "Fine!" she repeated, swinging the bag over her shoulder and almost knocking Ron off his chair. "I give up! I'm leaving!"

And to the whole class's amazement, Hermione strode over to the trapdoor, kicked it open, and climbed down the ladder out of sight.

"You know, I think I'll join her. I didn't take this class just to sit by and watch my best friend get insulted. You are a Professor, you should know better - shame on you!" Kat burst out as she too stood up and crammed her book into her bag. 

"But...my dear, you can't leave. You of all people, I mean to say! Your aura is begging to be interpreted; your inner sight yearns to be set free. Surely, you must see that my child!"

"I am NOT your child and I'd appreciate it if you stayed the bloody hell away from my aura!" With that said, Kat spun around and headed down the stairs after Hermione. Ron and I looked at each other flabbergasted.

It took a few minutes for the class to settle down again. Professor Trelawney seemed to have forgotten all about the Grim. She turned abruptly from our table, breathing rather heavily as she tugged her gauzy shawl more closely to her.

"Ooooo!" said Lavender suddenly, making everyone start. "Oooooo, Professor Trelawney, I've just remembered! You saw her leaving, didn't you? Didn't you, Professor? 'Around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever!' You said it ages ago, Professor!"

Professor Trelawney gave her a dewy smile.

"Yes, my dear, I did indeed know that Miss Granger would be leaving us. One hopes, however, that one might have mistaken the Signs...The Inner Eye can be a burden, you know..."

"Well, her eye needs testing, since she clearly didn't see Kat leaving..." Ron mumbled under his breath, making me grin.

Lavender and Parvati looked deeply impressed, and moved over so that Professor Trelawney could join their table instead.

"Some day the girls are having, eh?" Ron muttered to me, looking awed.

"Yeah..."

I glanced into the crystal ball but saw nothing but swirling white mist. Had Professor Trelawney really seen the Grim again? Would I? Would Kat? The last thing we needed was another near-fatal accident, with the Quidditch final drawing ever nearer.

The Easter holidays were not exactly relaxing. We third years had never had so much homework. Neville seemed close to a nervous collapse, and he wasn't the only one.

"Call this a holiday!" Seamus Finnigan roared at the common room one afternoon. "The exams are ages away, what're they playing at?"

But nobody had as much to do as Hermione and Kat. Even without Divination, they were taking more subjects than anybody else. The two of them were usually last to leave the common room at night, first to arrive at the library the next morning; they had shadows like Lupin's under their eyes, and seemed constantly close to tears.

Now that we were all on good terms again, Hermione and Kat began to sit next to us again for meals and I had decided it would be my personal mission in life to make sure my best friend was eating enough food. I glanced over at the Hufflepuff table to see Cedric watching Kat closely and nodded to him to let him know that he need not worry about her. He nodded back and that was the end of that.

Ron had taken over responsibility for Buckbeak's appeal. When he wasn't doing his own work, he was poring over enormously thick volumes with names like The Handbook of Hippogriff Psychology and Fowl or Foul? A Study of Hippogriff Brutality. He was so absorbed, he even forgot to be horrible to Crookshanks.

Kat and I, meanwhile, also had to fit in our homework around Quidditch practice every day, not to mention endless discussions of tactics with Oliver. The Gryffindor-Slytherin match would take place on the first Saturday after the Easter holidays. Slytherin was leading the tournament by exactly two hundred points. This meant (as Oliver constantly reminded the team) that we needed to win the match by more than that amount to win the Cup. It also meant that the burden of winning fell largely on Kat and I, because capturing the Snitch was worth one hundred and fifty points.

"So you must catch it only if we're more than fifty points up," Oliver told me constantly. "Only if we're more than fifty points up - and Kat, I'm relying largely on you to ensure that happens - or we win the match but lose the Cup. You've got that, haven't you? You must catch the Snitch only if we're—"

"I KNOW, OLIVER!" I finally yelled. I was getting tired of hearing him repeat the same thing over and over again; not to mention, I was still angry with him for surprising Kat with that kiss at the last game! I was glad to see that Fred and George were keeping an eye on the two of them whenever they were in the same room. It felt better to know that I wasn't the only one who didn't like the idea of them being together. For a minute there, I'd had to tell myself repeatedly that it was only wrong because Oliver was too old - he's a seventh year for Merlin's sake! - I had briefly worried that I was simply jealous that it had been Oliver and not me who Kat had shared her first kiss with, but that was preposterous!

She was my best friend - nothing more, nothing less. Just my best friend...who I thought was insanely adorable and cute...and the sweetest most amazing person I'd ever met...and maybe wanted to marry one day. All completely normal thoughts to have about your best friend, right?

Katrina's POV

The whole of Gryffindor House was obsessed with the coming match. Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch Cup since the legendary Charlie Weasley (Ron's second oldest brother) had been Seeker. But I doubted whether any of them, even Oliver, wanted to win as much as Harry and I did. The enmity between Harry and Malfoy - yes, I've decided to no longer be on a first name basis with that smarmy git - was at its highest point ever. Malfoy was still smarting about the mud-throwing incident in Hogsmeade - Harry had filled me in on what had happened - and was even more furious that Harry had somehow wormed his way out of punishment. Neither Harry or I had forgotten Malfoy's attempt to sabotage us in the match against Ravenclaw, but it was the matter of Buckbeak that made me most determined to beat Malfoy in front of the entire school.

Never, in anyone's memory, had a match approached in such a highly charged atmosphere. By the time the holidays were over, tension between the two teams and their Houses was at the breaking point. A number of small scuffles broke out in the corridors, culminating in a nasty incident in which a Gryffindor fourth year and a Slytherin sixth year ended up in the hospital wing with leeks sprouting out of their ears.

Harry and I were having a particularly bad time of it. We couldn't walk to class without Slytherins sticking out their legs and trying to trip us up; Crabbe and Goyle kept popping up wherever we went, and slouching away looking disappointed when they saw us surrounded by people. Oliver had given instructions that we should be accompanied everywhere we went, in case the Slytherins tried to put us out of action. The whole of Gryffindor House took up the challenge enthusiastically, so that it was impossible for Harry and I to get to classes on time because we were constantly surrounded by a vast, chattering crowd. 

I noticed that Harry seemed more concerned for his Firebolt's safety than his own. When he wasn't flying it, he locked it securely in his trunk and frequently dashed back up to Gryffindor Tower at break times to check that it was still there. 

I on the other hand, had too much homework to get done in the time I spent off the pitch and out of classes that I couldn't be bothered to waste my time running back and forth like he was. My 'honorary guard' must have been bored out of their minds sitting and watching Hermione and I scribble out our assignments. I felt bad for them and told them they didn't need to follow me - I wasn't even in Gryffindor! - but they wouldn't listen and insisted on staying.

All usual pursuits were abandoned in the Gryffindor common room the night before the match. Even Hermione and I decided to put down our books.

"We can't work," Hermione started to tell Ron and Harry nervously as we both looked back guiltily at our half finished homework.

"Yeah, it's way too hard to concentrate," I finished for her.

There was a great deal of noise. I looked around to see that Fred and George were dealing with the pressure by being louder and more exuberant than ever. Oliver was crouched over a model of a Quidditch field in the corner, prodding little figures across it with his wand and muttering to himself. Angelina and Alicia, and were laughing at Fred's and George's jokes. 

"You're going to be fine," Hermione told Harry as we noticed his mood, though she looked positively terrified.

"You've got Firebolts!" said Ron.

"Yeah...," said Harry, not looking convinced.

It came as a relief when Oliver suddenly stood up and yelled, "Team! Bed!"

I skipped over to Harry and Ron and planted a kiss first on Ron's cheek then Harry's.

"Try and get some sleep, Harry. No offense but you look like you could use it!" I whispered in his ear. 

"Me! Have you seen a mirror lately?" I gasped and twisted my face to look offended. I actually hadn't but that was beside the point.

"I'll have you know, Mr. Harry Potter, that there are only two people in the entire world who are gorgeous enough to pull off this tired, messy haired, worn-out look! Moi obviously being the first - and the second - of course, being the stunningly pretty Miss Hermione Granger!" I exclaimed as I hopped over to her and pretended to be Colin Creevey with his camera. 

I giggled as Hermione grabbed my hands to make me stop and rolled her eyes at my childish behavior. 

As I hugged Hermione goodnight and waved to my friends as I made to clamber out of the portrait hole, I thought I heard Harry mutter, "yes, yes you most certainly are..." but I knew it was probably just wishful thinking. 

I slept badly. First I dreamed that I had overslept, and that Oliver was yelling, "Where were you? We had to use Lavender Brown instead!" Then I dreamed that Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherin team arrived for the match riding dragons. Not sweet dragons like my Drake, but large ferocious looking ones! I was flying at breakneck speed, trying to avoid a spurt of flames from Malfoy's steed's mouth, when I realized I had forgotten my Firebolt. I fell through the air, until I landed on the back of another dragon who brought me back up to Malfoy's. I stared into the dragon's fiery eyes and tried to ignore the malicious whispering in my ear until the beast overpowered me and I turned into a gigantic flaming white wolf that snarled as it landed on the crowd and began to bite anyone within reach before running up and down the stands; my coat of flaming fur turning the wood to ash. I woke with a start to find that I had soaked my pajamas in sweat. I tumbled shakily out of bed and yanked out a new pair.

"It was just a dream! No way would Hogwarts bring dragons that big onto the grounds (awww poor delusional Kat; just wait till next year :p) and animagi could only transform into one animal so I'd never have to worry about turning into that fiery wolf! 

There was no point trying to go back to sleep so I sat on my bed and worked on homework until it was time to head down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Still not very hungry, I placed a few strips of bacon onto my plate and decided at the last minute to add a slice of buttered toast that I wasn't planning on eating so as to make my platter appear more full. I spent the rest of breakfast eating my way through the three strips of bacon as slowly as I could. Oliver finally motioned for us to get up and leave for the changing rooms and I sighed happily as I dropped the last half of bacon back onto my plate and made to stand up.

I heard a loud angry cough and looked up to see Harry glaring at me. 

"What?" I said blinking at him and schooling my features to look the picture of innocent. Harry wasn't having any of it though.

"Don't you dare give me that look!"

"What look?" I widened my eyes, batted my lashes, and tilted my head slightly as I furrowed my brows to look slightly confused. Harry snorted.

"I know you far to well to fall for that adorable innocent doe-eyed look you've got on your face right now! Sit your bum back down and finish your food!" 

I tried again and shifted my facial features to what I hoped was good enough to accomplish my goal. 

"Stop it! Seriously, how do you do that with your eyes! No one should be able to do that!" I smiled sweetly at him and made for the door again but he wouldn't let me past him.

I glared at him.

"Don't think your death glare will work on me either, Kat! Even if looks could kill, I would still stand here as a ghost and make sure you finished every last bite of food. 

I continued to glare at Harry as I picked up the piece of bacon and shoved it into my mouth and chewed as quickly as possible. Then I stood back up.

"Happy? Now can we go? Oliver is going to have a fit if we're late!" I said as I crossed my arms and tapped my feet impatiently. Harry mirrored my movements and looked pointedly at the piece of toast still on my plate.

"Sure! We can go as soon as that plate is completely empty. And no, vanishing it when I'm not looking will not work anymore! Did you really think I wouldn't catch on eventually?" Harry picked up the plate and held it out to me with a determined expression. 

I threw my hands up in the air and groaned. It had worked so well these past few weeks. When no one was looking, I'd send most of my meal in small portions at a time over to Hagrid's hut for Drake to eat - to give the illusion that I was the one eating. How had Harry found out? I thought I had been careful enough about it! Ugh!

Harry continued to stare at me and I at him. "You're wasting time, Harry! We need to get to the field!"

Harry arched a brow. "I'm not the one wasting time, you are. The sooner you eat your toast, the sooner we can be on our way."

I growled and jammed the entire slice into my mouth as fast as possible; glaring at Harry the entire time. 

"Cnnn weee ggggg nww?" I said around a mouthful of toast as I made to pass him again. Harry paused for a second then nodded and turned for the door. The second his back was turned I spat the half chewed toast into an empty goblet - feeling sorry for whoever was going to have to clean that up. 

We were walking out when someone wished Harry good luck. My eyes narrowed as I saw Harry acting weird. I looked closer and realized it was Cho Chang. I felt that weird feeling in my stomach again and was silently happy that I had managed to not eat the toast for fear that it would be coming right back up if I had. I distracted myself by thinking about the match and smiled as my mood lightened once more.

I skipped past Harry and twisted so I was facing him as we continued to make our way out of the hall. 

"We're gonna win, Harry! I just know it!" I said perfectly happy again now that we were on our way. Harry looked at me suspiciously then glanced back at the table as I knew he would. When he saw the plate sitting there as empty as before he turned back around and sped past me while sticking his tongue out. I punched my fist into the air and did a quick victory dance before jogging past him once more.

None of us spoke as we changed into our scarlet robes. I surreptitiously slipped my wand into my quidditch boot again like last time when no one was looking. It was highly unlikely that the dementors would make an appearance or that someone would try to pull off another stunt like Malfoy had, but I figured I'd rather have my wand and not need it, than wish I had it when I did need it. Now that I think about it, I never liked being without it. 

It was like my wand's presence reassured me that I was strong enough to control my magic. Which I guess makes sense, since that was the purpose of a wand! But still, it felt safer when I channeled my power through my wand. Sometimes it felt like I didn't even need it - and that scared me. 

My elemental magic terrified me ever since grandfather told me that I might discover I had an infinity towards other elements as well and I dreaded what new disaster would arise when I did, but at least I knew I could master it with practice - yet there were times when I'd think a spell in my mind and it almost seemed to work before I'd even begun to move my wand. And once I could have sworn I cast a spell without even having my wand on me! 

Wandless and nonverbal magic was not unheard of since children often do so before they receive training, but this felt different. More powerful. And that much power, in my experience, never resulted in anything good. Just look at wizards like Grindelwald and Voldemort! Or their muggle counterparts. In muggle studies we'd learned about muggles like Hitler and Stalin who were clearly cut from the same mold. People like them thought they should have the power to rule...and then there were people like Sirius Black, who thought that by following these crazy people they could obtain a certain level of power themselves. Ugh, I hated that he was my father, the blood that flowed through my veins felt cursed. I shivered at that last thought.

"Okay, it's time, let's go—" Oliver's voice shocked me back to reality and I quickly stood and picked up my broom.

We walked out onto the field to a tidal wave of noise. Three-quarters of the crowd was wearing scarlet rosettes, waving scarlet flags with the Gryffindor lion upon them, or brandishing banners with slogans like "GO GRYFFINDOR!" and "LIONS FOR THE CUP!" Behind the Slytherin goal posts, however, two hundred people were wearing green; the silver serpent of Slytherin glittered on their flags, and I saw that Sev sat in the very front row, wearing green like everyone else, and a very grim smile.

"And here are the Gryffindors!" yelled Lee Jordan, who was acting as commentator as usual. "Potter, Katrina, Johnson, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley, and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best team Hogwarts has seen in a good few years—"

Lee's comments were drowned by a tide of "boos" from the Slytherin end. I couldn't help but think that Lee had gotten it wrong. He should have said Black. I was no longer just Katrina...I was Katrina Black. I sighed sadly as I realized this and wondered how many people would judge me - hate me - if they knew the truth. If even I hated me, then how could they possibly not?

"And here come the Slytherin team, led by Captain Flint. He's made some changes in the lineup and seems to be going for size rather than skill—"

More boos from the Slytherin crowd. I, however, thought Lee had a point. Malfoy was easily the smallest person on the Slytherin team; the rest of them were enormous.

"Captains, shake hands!" said Madam Hooch.

Flint and Oliver approached each other and grasped each other's hand very tightly; it looked as though each was trying to break the other's fingers.

"Mount your brooms!" said Madam Hooch. "Three...two...one..."

The sound of her whistle was lost in the roar from the crowd as fourteen brooms rose into the air. I felt my hair fly back off my forehead; my nerves left me in the thrill of the flight; I glanced around, saw the Quaffle and sped off after it.

"And it's Gryffindor in possession, Katrina with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goal posts, looking good, Kat! Argh, no—Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing up the field—WHAM!—nice Bludger work there by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by—Angelina, Gryffindor back in possession, she passes to Katrina, come on, Kat—nice swerve around Montague—duck, Katrina, that's a Bludger!—SHE SCORES! TEN—ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

I punched the air and high fived Angelina as we soared around the end of the field; the sea of scarlet below was screaming its delight—

"OUCH!"

I was nearly thrown from my broom as Marcus Flint went smashing into me.

"Sorry!" said Flint as the crowd below booed. "Sorry, didn't see her!"

A moment later, Fred Weasley chucked his Beater's club at the back of Flint's head. Flint's nose smashed into the handle of his broom and began to bleed.

"That will do!" shrieked Madam Hooch, zooming between them. "Penalty shot to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty shot to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!"

"Come off it, Miss!" howled Fred, but Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Alicia flew forward to take the penalty.

"Come on, Alicia!" yelled Lee into the silence that had descended on the crowd. "YES! SHE'S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY—ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

I turned the Firebolt sharply to watch Flint, still bleeding freely, fly forward to take the Slytherin penalty. Oliver was hovering in front of the Gryffindor goal posts, his jaw clenched.

"'Course, Wood's a superb Keeper!" Lee Jordan told the crowd as Flint waited for Madam Hooch's whistle. "Superb! Very difficult to pass—very difficult indeed—YES! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! HE'S SAVED IT!"

Relieved, I zoomed alongside Angelina and Alicia as we raced to the Slytherin side.

"Gryffindor in possession, no, Slytherin in possession—no!—Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katrina, Katrina for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she's streaking up the field—THAT WAS DELIBERATE!"

Montague, a Slytherin Chaser, had swerved in front of me and instead of seizing the Quaffle had grabbed my head. I cartwheeled in the air, managed to stay on my broom, but dropped the Quaffle.

Madam Hooch's whistle rang out again as she soared over to Montague and began shouting at him. A minute later, I had put another penalty past the Slytherin Seeker.

"THIRTY—ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING—"

"Jordan, if you can't commentate in an unbiased way—!"

"I'm telling it like it is, Professor!"

I grinned at the banter between the two but gasped as I saw Harry almost get hit by the two bludgers that had been sent his way when he had tricked Malfoy into thinking he'd seen the snitch.

I had a fleeting glimpse of Bole and Derrick zooming toward him, clubs raised—

I watched in fear as Harry turned his Firebolt upward at the last second, and Bole and Derrick collided with a sickening crunch.

"Ha haaa!" yelled Lee Jordan as the Slytherin Beaters lurched away from each other, clutching their heads. I laughed as I chased after the Quaffle. "Too bad, boys! You'll need to get up earlier than that to beat a Firebolt! And it's Gryffindor in possession again, as Johnson takes the Quaffle—Flint alongside her—poke him in the eye, Angelina!—it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke—oh no—Flint in possession, Flint flying toward the Gryffindor goal posts, come on now, Wood, save—!"

But Flint had scored; there was an eruption of cheers from the Slytherin end, and Lee swore so badly that Minnie tried to tug the magical megaphone away from him.

"Sorry, Professor, sorry! Won't happen again! So, Gryffindor in the lead, thirty points to ten, and Gryffindor in possession—"

It was turning into the dirtiest game I had ever played in. Enraged that Gryffindor had taken such an early lead, the Slytherins were rapidly resorting to any means to take the Quaffle. Bole hit Alicia with his club and tried to say he'd thought she was a Bludger. George Weasley elbowed Bole in the face in retaliation. Madam Hooch awarded both teams penalties, and Wood pulled off another spectacular save, making the score forty-ten to Gryffindor.

The Snitch had disappeared again and I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Malfoy was keeping close to Harry as he soared over the match, looking around for it—once Gryffindor was fifty points ahead—

I scored again. Fifty-ten. Fred and George Weasley were swooping around me, clubs raised, in case any of the Slytherins were thinking of revenge. Bole and Derrick took advantage of Fred's and George's absence to aim both Bludgers at Oliver; they caught him in the stomach, one after the other, and he rolled over in the air, clutching his broom, completely winded.

Madam Hooch was beside herself.

"YOU DO NOT ATTACK THE KEEPER UNLESS THE QUAFFLE IS WITHIN THE SCORING AREA!" she shrieked at Bole and Derrick. "Gryffindor penalty!"

And I scored again. Sixty-ten. Moments later, Fred Weasley pelted a Bludger at Warrington, knocking the Quaffle out of his hands; Alicia seized it and put it through the Slytherin goal—seventy-ten.

The Gryffindor crowd below was screaming itself hoarse—Gryffindor was sixty points in the lead, and if Harry caught the Snitch now, the Cup was ours! I focused on making sure Gryffindor stayed in possession, knowing full well that if the snitch showed up again, Harry would catch it. All I had to do was make sure that we stayed 50 points ahead!

I shouted angrily as I saw Malfoy throw himself forward and grab hold of Harry's Firebolt and pull it back. He had been so close!

"Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I've never seen such tactics!" Madam Hooch screeched, shooting up to where Malfoy was sliding back onto his Nimbus Two Thousand and One.

"YOU CHEATING SCUM!" Lee Jordan was howling into the megaphone, dancing out of Professor McGonagall's reach. "YOU FILTHY, CHEATING B—"

Minnie didn't even bother to tell him off. She was actually shaking her finger in Malfoy's direction, her hat had fallen off, and she too was shouting furiously.

I took Gryffindor's penalty again, but was so angry I missed by several feet. I could tell I wasn't the only one losing concentration and the Slytherins, delighted by Malfoy's foul on Harry, were being spurred on to greater heights.

"Slytherin in possession, Slytherin heading for goal—Montague scores—" Lee groaned. "Seventy-twenty to Gryffindor..."

I cursed and leaned forward on my broom. I had to even the score back out before it was too late.

"Katrina gets the Quaffle for Gryffindor, come on, Kat, COME ON!"

Every single Slytherin player apart from Malfoy was streaking up the pitch toward me, including the Slytherin Keeper—they were all going to block me...

Suddenly Harry was there.

"AAAAAAARRRGH!"

They scattered as the Firebolt zoomed toward them; my way was clear. I laughed and shouted at Harry to tell him thanks.

"SHE SCORES! SHE SCORES! Gryffindor leads by eighty points to twenty!"

I cheered along with the crowd then noticed Malfoy diving, a look of triumph on his face—there, a few feet above the grass below, was a tiny, golden glimmer—

We watched with baited breath as Harry urged the Firebolt downward, but Malfoy was miles ahead—I screamed in fear as Harry flattened himself to the broom handle as Bole sent a Bludger at him—he was at Malfoy's ankles—he was level—

I forgot to breath as Harry threw himself forward and took both hands off his broom. He knocked Malfoy's arm out of the way and—

"YES!"

He pulled out of his dive, his hand in the air, and the stadium exploded. I sped towards him and almost knocked him off his broom as I hugged him tightly. 

Then Oliver was speeding toward us, half-blinded by tears; he seized Harry around the neck and sobbed unrestrainedly into his shoulder. I felt two large thumps as Fred and George hit us; then Angelina's and Alicia's voices, "We've won the Cup! We've won the Cup!" Tangled together in a many-armed hug, we sank, yelling hoarsely, back to earth.

Wave upon wave of crimson supporters were pouring over the barriers onto the field. Hands were raining down on our backs. I had a confused impression of noise and bodies pressing in on me. I looked over and saw Oliver looking at me as if he was going to kiss me again but before I could decide whether or not I wanted him too, Fred and George had grabbed him by the arms and spun him so his back was too me. 

Then I, and the rest of the team, were hoisted onto the shoulders of the crowd. Thrust into the light, I saw Hagrid, plastered with crimson rosettes—"Yeh beat 'em, Harry, yeh beat 'em, Kat! Wait till I tell Buckbeak!" There was Percy, jumping up and down like a maniac, all dignity forgotten. Minnie was sobbing harder even than Oliver, wiping her eyes with an enormous Gryffindor flag; and there, fighting their way toward Harry and I, were Ron and Hermione. 

Words failed them. They simply beamed as we were borne toward the stands, where grandfather stood waiting with the enormous Quidditch Cup.

If only there had been a dementor around...As a sobbing Oliver passed Harry the Cup, as he lifted it into the air and pulled me into a hug, I felt I could have produced the world's best Patronus.

********************************************

In-Line Comments

\- AN: hehe I feel so evil right now for putting Kat and Harry through all this relationship drama and knowing it's going to get wayyy more complicated in the next books before it all resolves itself :p but I don't want to write something that's been done a million times or is a total cliche - love is complicated and rarely does it work out on the first go - it just seems out of sync with my story to make things so straightforward for her when Kat's entire life and everything else about her is anything but that - so feel free to comment who you think she should go out with! I'm definitely planning to experiment with that so if I can, I'll probably try to incorporate a little of everything that you guys wanna see along with what I have in mind.  
\- Ok so been thinking of making up the term 'animorphmagus' - basically someone who can morph their features into any animal - but I'd love to hear back from you guys on whether you would like to see Kat as one or whether you think that's tacky/cliche and I should keep it to just one!


	54. Professor Trelawney’s Prediction

Katrina's POV

Our euphoria at finally winning the Quidditch Cup lasted at least a week. Even the weather seemed to be celebrating; as June approached, the days became cloudless and sultry, and all anybody felt like doing was strolling onto the grounds and flopping down on the grass with several pints of iced pumpkin juice, perhaps playing a casual game of Gobstones or watching the giant squid propel itself dreamily across the surface of the lake.

But we couldn't. Exams were nearly upon us, and instead of lazing around outside, we were forced to remain inside the castle, trying to bully our brains into concentrating while enticing wafts of summer air drifted in through the windows. Even Fred and George had been spotted working; they were about to take their O.W.L.s (Ordinary Wizarding Levels). Percy was getting ready to take his N.E.W.T.s (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests), the highest qualification Hogwarts offered. As Percy hoped to enter the Ministry of Magic, he needed top grades. He was becoming increasingly edgy, and gave very severe punishments to anybody who disturbed the quiet of the common room in the evenings. In fact, the only people who seemed more anxious than Percy were Hermione and I.

Thankfully Harry and Ron had given up asking us how we were managing to attend several classes at once, but they couldn't restrain themselves when they saw the exam schedule she had drawn up for us. The first column read:

Monday

9 o'clock, Arithmancy

9 o'clock, Transfiguration

Lunch

1 o'clock, Charms

1 o'clock, Ancient Runes

"Hermione?" Ron said cautiously, because she was liable to explode when interrupted these days. "Er—are you sure you've copied down these times right?"

"What?" snapped Hermione, picking up the exam schedule and examining it. "Yes, of course I have."

"Is there any point asking how you two are going to sit for two exams at once?" said Harry.

"No," said Hermione shortly. "Have either of you seen my copy of Numerology and Gramatica?"

"Oh, yeah, I borrowed it for a bit of bedtime reading," said Ron, but very quietly. I helped Hermione shift our heaps of parchment around on the table, looking for the book. Just then, there was a rustle at the window and Hedwig fluttered through it, a note clutched tight in her beak.

"It's from Hagrid," said Harry, ripping the note open. "Buckbeak's appeal—it's set for the sixth."

"That's the day we finish our exams," I said, still looking everywhere for her Arithmancy book.

"And they're coming up here to do it," said Harry, still reading from the letter. "Someone from the Ministry of Magic and—and an executioner."

I looked up, startled.

"They're bringing the executioner to the appeal! But that sounds as though they've already decided!"

"Yeah, it does," said Harry slowly.

"They can't!" Ron howled. "I've spent ages reading up on stuff for him; they can't just ignore it all!"

But I had a horrible feeling that the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures had had its mind made up for it by Mr. Malfoy. Draco Malfoy, who had been noticeably subdued since Gryffindor's triumph in the Quidditch final, seemed to regain some of his old swagger over the next few days. From sneering comments I overheard, Malfoy was certain Buckbeak was going to be killed, and seemed thoroughly pleased with himself for bringing it about. It was all I could do to stop myself from hitting Malfoy in the face again on these occasions. And the worst thing of all was that they had no time or opportunity to go and see Hagrid - or Drake, because the strict new security measures had not been lifted, and Harry didn't dare retrieve his Invisibility Cloak from below the one-eyed witch.

********************************************

Exam week began and an unnatural hush fell over the castle. We emerged from Transfiguration at lunchtime on Monday, limp and ashen-faced, comparing results and bemoaning the difficulty of the tasks we had been set, which had included turning a teapot into a tortoise. Hermione and I left the room discussing how her tortoise had looked more like a turtle. I did my best to convince her that I was sure she would get good marks for it but she still fretted.

Hermione and I then used our time turners to go back and take our Arithmancy exam which turned out to be a lot easier than either of us thought! I liked Arithmancy. You plugged numbers into a formula and if you did it right then you would alway get the right answer. I wish life worked like that...

Then, after a hasty lunch that Harry forced me to eat, it was straight back upstairs for the Charms exam. Hermione had been right; Professor Flitwick did indeed test us on Cheering Charms. Harry slightly overdid his out of nerves and Ron, who was partnering him, ended up in fits of hysterical laughter and had to be led away to a quiet room for an hour before he was ready to perform the charm himself. 

Then Hermione and I took our Ancient Runes exam. I feared I might have mixed up a few of my translations! Hermione said that she was sure I'd done better than she had, but I didn't think that was true. 

After dinner, we hurried back to the Gryffindor common rooms, not to relax, but to start studying for Care of Magical Creatures, Potions, and Astronomy.

Hagrid presided over the Care of Magical Creatures exam the following morning with a very preoccupied air indeed; his heart didn't seem to be in it at all. He had provided a large tub of fresh flobberworms for the class, and told us that to pass the test, our flobberworm had to still be alive at the end of one hour. As flobberworms flourished best if left to their own devices, it was the easiest exam any of us had ever taken, and also gave Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I plenty of opportunity to speak to Hagrid.

"Beaky's gettin' a bit depressed," Hagrid told us, bending low on the pretense of checking that Harry's flobberworm was still alive. "Bin cooped up too long. Drake's been great to him, Kat...But still...we'll know day after tomorrow—one way or the other—"

I hugged Hagrid before we left, my heart breaking as I looked at my giant friend and saw tears sparkling in his eyes. I could only imagine what he must be going through, and what I was imagining felt horrible.

We had Potions that afternoon, which went alright. I managed to finish my Confusing Concoction in half the time by making a few shortcuts and saw Sev send me the slightest smile before he passed onto the next student. 

Then came Astronomy at midnight, up on the tallest tower; History of Magic on Wednesday morning, in which I scribbled everything I remembered about medieval witch-hunts. Wednesday afternoon meant Herbology, in the greenhouses under a baking-hot sun; then back to the common room once more, with sunburnt necks, thinking longingly of this time next day, when it would all be over.

Our second to last exam, on Thursday morning, was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Lupin had compiled the most unusual exam any of us had ever taken; a sort of obstacle course outside in the sun, where we had to wade across a deep paddling pool containing a grindylow, cross a series of potholes full of Red Caps, squish our way across a patch of marsh while ignoring misleading directions from a hinkypunk, then climb into an old trunk and battle with a new boggart.

"Excellent, Harry," Lupin muttered as Harry climbed out of the trunk, grinning. "Full marks."

Flushed with his success, Harry hung around to watch Ron, Hermione, and I. Ron did very well until he reached the hinkypunk, which successfully confused him into sinking waist-high into the quagmire. Hermione did everything perfectly until she reached the trunk with the boggart in it. After about a minute inside it, she burst out again, screaming.

"Hermione!" said Lupin, startled. "What's the matter?"

"P—P—Professor McGonagall!" Hermione gasped, pointing into the trunk. "Sh—she said I'd failed everything!"

It took a little while to calm Hermione down. Then it was my turn. I managed my way though to the boggart but hesitated. Lessons with Lupin had made it a lot easier to face the creatures but I still didn't like them one bit! I climbed into the trunk and turned to face the creature. The next thing I knew, the trunk had burst into flames and the now familiar scene was playing out before my eyes. Bodies burned to dust as I stood their frozen and unable to help my friends. Then the hooded figure stepped out from the flames and pulled off his hood. I just stood there and stared at Sirius Black as he laughed wickedly and motioned for me to join him. I shook my head fiercely and lifted my wand.

"Riddikulus!"

I sighed in relief as I clambered out of the trunk and we all went back to the castle. Ron was still slightly inclined to laugh at Hermione's boggart, but an argument was averted by the sight that met us on the top of the steps.

Cornelius Fudge, sweating slightly in his pinstriped cloak, was standing there staring out at the grounds. He started at the sight of Harry.

"Hello there, Harry!" he said. "Just had an exam, I expect? Nearly finished?"

"Yes," said Harry. Hermione, Ron, and I, not being on speaking terms with the Minister of Magic, hovered awkwardly in the background.

"Lovely day," said Fudge, casting an eye over the lake. Then he spotted me and blinked his eyes in surprise. "Ah, you must be Katrina, nice to meet you my dear!"

I shook the hand he had outstretched,  
not sure what to say.

"Pity... pity..."

He sighed deeply and looked down at Harry and I.

"I'm here on an unpleasant mission. The Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures required a witness to the execution of a mad hippogriff. As I needed to visit Hogwarts to check on the Black situation, I was asked to step in."

"Does that mean the appeal's already happened?" Ron interrupted, stepping forward.

"No, no, it's scheduled for this afternoon," said Fudge, looking curiously at Ron.

"Then you might not have to witness an execution at all!" said Ron stoutly. "The hippogriff might get off!"

Before Fudge could answer, two wizards came through the castle doors behind him. One was so ancient he appeared to be withering before our very eyes; the other was tall and strapping, with a thin black mustache. I gathered that they were representatives of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, because the very old wizard squinted toward Hagrid's cabin and said in a feeble voice, "Dear, dear, I'm getting too old for this...Two o'clock, isn't it, Fudge?" I clenched my hands into fists, this was just wrong! I felt a hand wrap around mine and looked down to see that Harry had my hand in his. I squeezed it tightly.

The black-mustached man was fingering something in his belt; I looked and saw that he was running one broad thumb along the blade of a shining axe. Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione nudged him hard in the ribs and jerked her head toward the entrance hall.

"Why'd you stop me?" said Ron angrily as they entered the Great Hall for lunch. "Did you see them? They've even got the axe ready! This isn't justice!"

"Ron, your dad works for the Ministry, you can't go saying things like that to his boss!" said Hermione, but she too looked very upset. "As long as Hagrid keeps his head this time, and argues his case properly, they can't possibly execute Buckbeak..."

But I could tell Hermione didn't really believe what she was saying. All around us, people were talking excitedly as they ate their lunch, happily anticipating the end of the exams that afternoon, but Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I were lost in worry about Hagrid and Buckbeak and didn't join in.

Harry's POV

Ron and I's last exam was Divination; Hermione's and Kat's, Muggle Studies. We walked up the marble staircase together; Hermione and Kat left us on the first floor and Ron and I proceeded all the way up to the seventh, where many of our class were sitting on the spiral staircase to Professor Trelawney's classroom, trying to cram in a bit of last-minute studying.

"She's seeing us all separately," Neville informed us as we went to sit down next to him. He had his copy of Unfogging the Future open on his lap at the pages devoted to crystal gazing. "Have either of you ever seen anything in a crystal ball?" he asked us unhappily.

"Nope," said Ron in an offhand voice. He kept checking his watch; I knew that he was counting down the time until Buckbeak's appeal started.

The line of people outside the classroom shortened very slowly. As each person climbed back down the silver ladder, the rest of the class hissed, "What did she ask? Was it okay?"

But they all refused to say.

"She says the crystal ball's told her that if I tell you, I'll have a horrible accident!" squeaked Neville as he clambered back down the ladder toward Ron and I.

"That's convenient," snorted Ron. "You know, I'm starting to think Hermione and Kat were right about her"—he jabbed his thumb toward the trapdoor overhead—"she's a right old fraud."

"Yeah," I said, looking at my own watch. It was now two o'clock. "Wish she'd hurry up..."

Parvati came back down the ladder glowing with pride.

"She says I've got all the makings of a true Seer," she informed us. "I saw loads of stuff...Well, good luck!"

She hurried off down the spiral staircase toward Lavender.

"Ronald Weasley," said the familiar, misty voice from over their heads. Ron grimaced at me and climbed the silver ladder out of sight. I was now the only person left to be tested. I settled myself on the floor with my back against the wall, listening to a fly buzzing in the sunny window, my mind across the grounds with Hagrid.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, Ron's large feet reappeared on the ladder.

"How'd it go?" I asked him, standing up.

"Rubbish," said Ron. "Couldn't see a thing, so I made some stuff up. Don't think she was convinced, though..."

"Meet you in the common room," I muttered as Professor Trelawney's voice called, "Harry Potter!"

The tower room was hotter than ever before; the curtains were closed, the fire was alight, and the usual sickly scent made me cough as I stumbled through the clutter of chairs and tables to where Professor Trelawney sat waiting for me before a large crystal ball.

"Good day, my dear," she said softly. "If you would kindly gaze into the Orb... Take your time, now...then tell me what you see within it..."

I bent over the crystal ball and stared, stared as hard as I could, willing it to show me something other than swirling white fog, but nothing happened.

"Well?" Professor Trelawney prompted delicately. "What do you see?"

The heat was overpowering and my nostrils were stinging with the perfumed smoke wafting from the fire beside us. I thought of what Ron had just said, and decided to pretend.

"Er—" I said, "a dark shape...um..."

"What does it resemble?" whispered Professor Trelawney. "Think, now..."

I cast my mind around and it landed on Buckbeak.

"A hippogriff," I said firmly.

"Indeed!" whispered Professor Trelawney, scribbling keenly on the parchment perched upon her knees. "My boy, you may well be seeing the outcome of poor Hagrid's trouble with the Ministry of Magic! Look closer... Does the hippogriff appear to...have its head?"

"Yes," I said firmly.

"Are you sure?" Professor Trelawney urged me. "Are you quite sure, dear? You don't see it writhing on the ground, perhaps, and a shadowy figure raising an axe behind it?"

"No!" I said, starting to feel slightly sick.

"No blood? No weeping Hagrid?"

"No!" I said again, wanting more than ever to leave the room and the heat. "It looks fine, it's—flying away..."

Professor Trelawney sighed.

"Well, dear, I think we'll leave it there... A little disappointing...but I'm sure you did your best."

Relieved, I got up, picked up my bag and turned to go, but then a loud, harsh voice spoke behind me.

"It will happen tonight."

I wheeled around. Professor Trelawney had gone rigid in her armchair; her eyes were unfocused and her mouth sagging.

"S—sorry?" I said.

But Professor Trelawney didn't seem to hear me. Her eyes started to roll. I sat there in a panic. She looked as though she was about to have some sort of seizure. I hesitated, thinking of running to the hospital wing—and then Professor Trelawney spoke again, in the same harsh voice, quite unlike her own:

"The Dark Lord lies alone and friendless, abandoned by his followers. His servant has been chained these twelve years. Tonight, before midnight...secrets will be revealed...a family restored...yet the servant will break free and set out to rejoin his master. The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant's and his child's aid, greater and more terrible than ever he was. Tonight...before midnight...the servant...will set out...to rejoin...his master..."

Professor Trelawney's head fell forward onto her chest. She made a grunting sort of noise. I sat there, staring at her. Then, quite suddenly, Professor Trelawney's head snapped up again.

"I'm so sorry, dear boy," she said dreamily, "the heat of the day, you know...I drifted off for a moment..."

I sat there, staring at her.

"Is there anything wrong, my dear?"

"You—you just told me that the—the Dark Lord's going to rise again...that his servant's going to go back to him..."

Professor Trelawney looked thoroughly startled.

"The Dark Lord? He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? My dear boy, that's hardly something to joke about...Rise again, indeed—"

"But you just said it! You said the Dark Lord—"

"I think you must have dozed off too, dear!" said Professor Trelawney. "I would certainly not presume to predict anything quite as far-fetched as that!"

I climbed back down the ladder and the spiral staircase, wondering...had I just heard Professor Trelawney make a real prediction? Or had that been her idea of an impressive end to the test? But what was that part about the Dark Lord's child? I knew who that was! That was Kat! Did this mean that she would help her father rise to power again? The Kat I knew would never do so, but what if he found a way to get to her like he had last year! I couldn't lose her!

Five minutes later I was dashing past the security trolls outside the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, Professor Trelawney's words still resounding in my head. People were striding past me in the opposite direction, laughing and joking, heading for the grounds and a bit of long-awaited freedom; by the time I had reached the portrait hole and entered the common room, it was almost deserted. Over in the corner, however, sat Ron, Hermione, and Kat.

"Professor Trelawney," I panted, "just told me—"

But I stopped abruptly at the sight of their faces.

"Buckbeak lost," said Ron weakly. "Hagrid's just sent this."

Hagrid's note was dry this time, no tears had splattered it, yet his hand seemed to have shaken so much as he wrote that it was hardly legible.

Lost appeal. They're going to execute at sunset.

Nothing you can do. Don't come down.

I don't want you to see it.

Hagrid

"We've got to go," I said at once. "He can't just sit there on his own, waiting for the executioner!"

"Sunset, though," said Ron, who was staring out the window in a glazed sort of way. "We'd never be allowed...'specially you two..." Ron glanced between Kat and I.

I sank my head into my hands, thinking.

"If we only had the Invisibility Cloak..."

"Where is it?" said Hermione.

I told her about leaving it in the passageway under the one-eyed witch.

"...if Snape sees me anywhere near there again, I'm in serious trouble," I finished.

"That's true," said Kat, getting to her feet and helping Hermione to hers. "If he sees you...How do you open the witch's hump again?"

"You—you tap it and say, 'Dissendium,'" I said. "But—"

Kat and Hermione didn't wait for the rest of my sentence; they strode across the room, pushed open the Fat Lady's portrait and vanished from sight.

"They haven't gone to get it?" Ron said, staring after them.

They had. Hermione and Kat returned a quarter of an hour later with the silvery cloak folded carefully under Kat's robes.

"Hermione, Kat, I don't know what's gotten into you lately!" said Ron, astounded. "First you hit Malfoy, then you walk out on Professor Trelawney—"

Hermione looked rather flattered and Kat blushed and stared at the floor. 

We went down to dinner with everybody else, but did not return to Gryffindor Tower afterward. I had the cloak hidden down the front of my robes; I had to keep my arms folded to hide the lump. We skulked in an empty chamber off the entrance hall, listening, until we were sure it was deserted. We heard a last pair of people hurrying across the hall and a door slamming. Hermione and Kat poked their heads around the door.

"Okay," they whispered, "no one there—cloak on—"

Walking very close together so that nobody would see us, we crossed the hall on tiptoe beneath the cloak, then walked down the stone front steps into the grounds. The sun was already sinking behind the Forbidden Forest, gilding the top branches of the trees.

We reached Hagrid's cabin and knocked. He was a minute in answering, and when he did, he looked all around for his visitor, pale-faced and trembling.

"It's us," I hissed. "We're wearing the Invisibility Cloak. Let us in and we can take it off."

"Yeh shouldn've come!" Hagrid whispered, but he stood back, and we stepped inside. Hagrid shut the door quickly and I pulled off the cloak. There was a rustling sound and I looked over to see Drake flying over to perch on Kat's shoulder like always. I watched for a second as Kat greeted her dragon after not having seen him in so long. They made such an adorable picture right now! I shook my head and tore my gaze away from them to look at Hagrid.

Hagrid was not crying, nor did he throw himself upon our necks. He looked like a man who did not know where he was or what to do. This helplessness was worse to watch than tears.

"Wan' some tea?" he said. His great hands were shaking as he reached for the kettle.

"Where's Buckbeak, Hagrid?" said Kat hesitantly.

"I—I took him outside," said Hagrid, spilling milk all over the table as he filled up the jug. "He's tethered in me pumpkin patch. Thought he oughta see the trees an'—an' smell fresh air—before—"

Hagrid's hand trembled so violently that the milk jug slipped from his grasp and shattered all over the floor.

"I'll do it, Hagrid," said Hermione quickly, hurrying over and starting to clean up the mess.

"There's another one in the cupboard," Hagrid said, sitting down and wiping his forehead on his sleeve. I glanced at Ron, who looked back hopelessly.

"Isn't there anything anyone can do, Hagrid?" I asked fiercely, sitting down next to him. "Dumbledore—"

"He's tried," said Hagrid. "He's got no power ter overrule the Committee. He told 'em Buckbeak's all right, but they're scared...Yeh know what Lucius Malfoy's like...threatened 'em, I expect...an' the executioner, Macnair, he's an old pal o' Malfoy's...but it'll be quick an' clean...an' I'll be beside him..."

Hagrid swallowed. His eyes were darting all over the cabin as though looking for some shred of hope or comfort.

"Dumbledore's gonna come down while it—while it happens. Wrote me this mornin'. Said he wants ter—ter be with me. Great man, Dumbledore..."

Hermione, who had been rummaging in Hagrid's cupboard for another milk jug, let out a small, quickly stifled sob. She straightened up with the new jug in her hands, fighting back tears.

"We'll stay with you too, Hagrid," she began, but Hagrid shook his shaggy head.

"Yeh're ter go back up ter the castle. I told yeh, I don' wan' yeh watchin'. An' yeh shouldn' be down here anyway...If Fudge an' Dumbledore catch yeh out without permission, Harry, Kat, yeh'll be in big trouble."

Silent tears were now streaming down Hermione's face, but she hid them from Hagrid, bustling around making tea. Then, as she picked up the milk bottle to pour some into the jug, she let out a shriek.

"Ron! I—I don't believe it—it's Scabbers!"

Ron gaped at her.

"What are you talking about?"

Hermione carried the milk jug over to the table and turned it upside down. With a frantic squeak, and much scrambling to get back inside, Scabbers the rat came sliding out onto the table.

"Scabbers!" said Ron blankly. "Scabbers, what are you doing here?"

He grabbed the struggling rat and held him up to the light. Scabbers looked dreadful. He was thinner than ever, large tufts of hair had fallen out leaving wide bald patches, and he writhed in Ron's hands as though desperate to free himself.

"It's okay, Scabbers!" said Ron. "No cats! There's nothing here to hurt you!"

Hagrid suddenly stood up, his eyes fixed on the window. His normally ruddy face had gone the color of parchment.

"They're comin'..."

Ron, Hermione, Kat, and I whipped around. A group of men were walking down the distant castle steps. In front was Albus Dumbledore, his silver beard gleaming in the dying sun. Next to him trotted Cornelius Fudge. Behind them came the feeble old Committee member and the executioner, Macnair.

"Yeh gotta go," said Hagrid. Every inch of him was trembling. "They mustn' find yeh here...Go now..."

Ron stuffed Scabbers into his pocket and Hermione and Kat picked up the cloak.

"I'll let yeh out the back way," said Hagrid.

We followed him to the door into his back garden. I felt strangely unreal, and even more so when I saw Buckbeak a few yards away, tethered to a tree behind Hagrid's pumpkin patch. Buckbeak seemed to know something was happening. He turned his sharp head from side to side and pawed the ground nervously. 

"It's okay, Beaky," said Hagrid softly as Drake flew over to land on Buckbeak's "It's okay..." He turned to Ron, Hermione, Kat, and I. "Go on," he said. "Get goin'."

But we didn't move.

"Hagrid, we can't—" Kat started to say but she couldn't finish.

"We'll tell them what really happened—"

"They can't kill him—"

"Go!" said Hagrid fiercely. "It's bad enough without you lot in trouble an' all!"

We had no choice. As Hermione and Kat threw the cloak over Ron and I, we heard voices at the front of the cabin. Hagrid looked at the place where they had just vanished from sight.

"Go quick," he said hoarsely. "Don' listen..."

And he strode back into his cabin as someone knocked at the front door.

Slowly, in a kind of horrified trance, we set off silently around Hagrid's house. As we reached the other side, the front door closed with a sharp snap.

"Please, let's hurry," Kat whispered. "I can't stand it, I can't bear it..." I grasped her hand in mine and tried to offer what little comfort I could.

We started up the sloping lawn toward the castle. The sun was sinking fast now; the sky had turned to a clear, purple-tinged grey, but to the west there was a ruby-red glow.

Ron stopped dead.

"Oh, please, Ron," Hermione began.

"It's Scabbers—he won't—stay put—"

Ron was bent over, trying to keep Scabbers in his pocket, but the rat was going berserk; squeaking madly, twisting and flailing, trying to sink his teeth into Ron's hand.

"Scabbers, it's me, you idiot, it's Ron," Ron hissed.

We heard a door open behind us and men's voices.

"Oh, Ron, please let's move, they're going to do it!" Hermione breathed.

"Okay—Scabbers, stay put—"

We walked forward; I, like Hermione and Kat, was trying not to listen to the rumble of voices behind us. Ron stopped again.

"I can't hold him—Scabbers, shut up, everyone'll hear us—"

The rat was squealing wildly, but not loudly enough to cover up the sounds drifting from Hagrid's garden. There was a jumble of indistinct male voices, a silence, and then, without warning, the unmistakable swish and thud of an axe.

Hermione and Kat swayed on the spot.

"They did it!" Kat whispered to me. "I d—don't believe it—they did it!"

********************************************

In-Line Comments

\- I switched up a few lines so let me know if you think it flowed alright. I will obviously add more to her original prophecy about Harry but this one doesn't seem to need much editing  
\- It's a little shorter of a chapter and I couldn't really think of much to add but hoped you liked what I did! Like I said I'd love input on whether y'all like the idea of making Kat have multiple forms because unless I hear otherwise, I might try and incorporate a new form into the next chapter, so speak up now if you have a problem with it! I'm happy to keep it the way it is if that's what y'all would prefer! - if I don't hear otherwise, then I'm just gonna go for it lol


	55. Cat, Rat, & Dog

Harry's POV

My mind had gone blank with shock. The four of us stood transfixed with horror under the Invisibility Cloak. I hugged Kat close to me as she rested her head on my shoulder and buried her face. The very last rays of the setting sun were casting a bloody light over the long-shadowed grounds. Then, behind us, we heard a wild howling.

"Hagrid," Kat and I muttered. Without thinking about what we were doing, we made to turn back, but both Ron and Hermione seized our arms.

"We can't," said Ron, who was paper-white. "He'll be in worse trouble if they know we've been to see him..."

Hermione's breathing was shallow and uneven.

"How—could—they?" she choked. "How could they?"

"Come on," said Ron, whose teeth seemed to be chattering. He wrapped his arm around Hermione as I had done for Kat.

We set off back toward the castle, walking slowly to keep ourselves hidden under the cloak. The light was fading fast now. By the time we reached open ground, darkness was settling like a spell around us.

"Scabbers, keep still," Ron hissed, clamping his hand over his chest. The rat was wriggling madly. Ron came to a sudden halt, trying to force Scabbers deeper into his pocket. "What's the matter with you, you stupid rat? Stay still—OUCH! He bit me!"

"Ron, be quiet!" Hermione whispered urgently. "Fudge'll be out here in a minute—"

"He won't—stay—put—"

Scabbers was plainly terrified. He was writhing with all his might, trying to break free of Ron's grip.

"What's the matter with him?"

But I had just seen—slinking toward us, his body low to the ground, wide yellow eyes glinting eerily in the darkness—Crookshanks. Whether he could see us or was following the sound of Scabbers's squeaks, I couldn't tell. As I looked more closely at Crookshanks, I couldn't help but sense that there was something different about him tonight...something was off...but I couldn't tell what.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione moaned. "No, go away, Crookshanks! Go away!"

But the cat was getting nearer—

"Scabbers—NO!"

Too late—the rat had slipped between Ron's clutching fingers, hit the ground, and scampered away. In one bound, Crookshanks sprang after him, and before Hermione, Kat, or I could stop him, Ron had thrown the Invisibility Cloak off himself and pelted away into the darkness.

"Ron!" Hermione moaned.

The three of us looked at each other, then followed at a sprint; it was impossible to run full out under the cloak; we pulled it off and it streamed behind us like a banner as we hurtled after Ron; we could hear his feet thundering along ahead and his shouts at Crookshanks.

"Get away from him—get away—Scabbers, come here—"

There was a loud thud.

"Gotcha! Get off, you stinking cat—"

We almost fell over Ron; we skidded to a stop right in front of him. He was sprawled on the ground, but Scabbers was back in his pocket; he had both hands held tight over the quivering lump.

"Ron—come on—back under the cloak—" Hermione panted. "Dumbledore—the Minister—they'll be coming back out in a minute—"

But before we could cover ourselves again, before we could even catch our breath, we heard the soft pounding of gigantic paws...Something was bounding toward us, quiet as a shadow—an enormous, pale-eyed, jet-black dog.

I saw Kat's eyes widen in recognition as I reached for my wand, but too late—the dog had made an enormous leap and the front paws hit me on the chest; I keeled over backward in a whirl of hair; I felt its hot breath, saw inch-long teeth—

But the force of its leap had carried it too far; it rolled off me. Dazed, feeling as though my ribs were broken, I tried to stand up; I could hear it growling as it skidded around for a new attack.

Ron was on his feet. As the dog sprang back toward them he pushed me aside; the dog's jaws fastened instead around Ron's outstretched arm. I lunged forward and seized a handful of the brute's hair, but it was dragging Ron away as easily as though he were a rag doll—

Then, out of nowhere, something hit me so hard across the face I was knocked off my feet again. I heard Hermione and Kat shriek with pain and fall too.

I groped for my wand, blinking blood out of my eyes—

"Lumos!" I whispered.

The wandlight showed us the trunk of a thick tree; we had chased Scabbers into the shadow of the Whomping Willow and its branches were creaking as though in a high wind, whipping backward and forward to stop us going nearer.

And there, at the base of the trunk, was the dog, dragging Ron backward into a large gap in the roots—Ron was fighting furiously, but his head and torso were slipping out of sight—

"Ron!" I shouted, trying to follow, but a heavy branch whipped lethally through the air and I was forced backward again.

All we could see now was one of Ron's legs, which he had hooked around a root in an effort to stop the dog from pulling him farther underground—but a horrible crack cut the air like a gunshot; Ron's leg had broken, and a moment later, his foot vanished from sight.

"Harry—we've got to go for help—" Kat gasped; she was bleeding too; the Willow had cut her across the shoulder.

"No! That thing's big enough to eat him; we haven't got time—"

"Harry—we're never going to get through without help—"

Another branch whipped down at us, twigs clenched like knuckles.

"If that dog can get in, we can," I panted, darting here and there, trying to find a way through the vicious, swishing branches, but I couldn't get an inch nearer to the tree roots without being in range of the tree's blows.

"Oh, help, help," Hermione whispered frantically, dancing uncertainly on the spot, "please..."

Crookshanks darted forward. He slithered between the battering branches like a snake and placed his front paws upon a knot on the trunk.

Abruptly, as though the tree had been turned to marble, it stopped moving. Not a leaf twitched or shook.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione whispered uncertainly. She now grasped my arm painfully hard. "How did he know—?"

"He's friends with that dog," I said grimly. "I've seen them together. Come on—and keep your wand out—"

We covered the distance to the trunk in seconds, but before we had reached the gap in the roots, Crookshanks had slid into it with a flick of his bottlebrush tail. I went next; I crawled forward, headfirst, and slid down an earthy slope to the bottom of a very low tunnel. Crookshanks was a little way along, his eyes flashing in the light from my wand. I squinted after him as I tried to figure out what it was that was different about him. Seconds later, Hermione and Kat slithered down beside me. 

"Where's Ron?" Kat whispered in a terrified voice.

"This way," I said, setting off, bent-backed, after Crookshanks.

"Where does this tunnel come out?" Hermione asked breathlessly from behind me.

"I don't know...It's marked on the Marauder's Map but Fred and George said no one's ever gotten into it...It goes off the edge of the map, but it looked like it was heading for Hogsmeade..."

We moved as fast as we could, bent almost double; ahead of us, Crookshanks's tail bobbed in and out of view. On and on went the passage; it felt at least as long as the one to Honeydukes...All I could think of was Ron and what the enormous dog might be doing to him...

And then the tunnel began to rise; moments later it twisted, and Crookshanks had gone. Instead, we could see a patch of dim light through a small opening.

The three of us paused, gasping for breath, edging forward. We raised our wands to see what lay beyond.

It was a room, a very disordered, dusty room. Paper was peeling from the walls; there were stains all over the floor; every piece of furniture was broken as though somebody had smashed it. The windows were all boarded up.

I glanced at Kat and Hermione, who looked very frightened but nodded.

I pulled myself out of the hole and then reached down to help Kat. Once all three of us were out, we stared around. The room was deserted, but a door to our right stood open, leading to a shadowy hallway. Hermione suddenly grabbed my arm again. Her wide eyes were traveling around the boarded windows.

"Harry," she whispered, "I think we're in the Shrieking Shack."

I looked around. My eyes fell on a wooden chair near them. Large chunks had been torn out of it; one of the legs had been ripped off entirely.

"Ghosts didn't do that," I said slowly.

At that moment, there was a creak overhead. Something had moved upstairs. We looked up at the ceiling. Hermione's grip on my arm was so tight I was losing feeling in my fingers. I raised my eyebrows at her; she nodded again and let go.

Quietly as we could, we crept out into the hall and up the crumbling staircase. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust except the floor, where a wide shiny stripe had been made by something being dragged upstairs.

We reached the dark landing.

"Nox," we whispered together, and the lights at the end of our wands went out. Only one door was open. As we crept toward it, we heard movement from behind it; a low moan, and then a deep, loud purring. We exchanged a last look, a last nod.

Wand held tightly before me, I moved to open the door, but before I could do so, Kat had kicked it wide open. I looked at her in surprise but now wasn't the time to discuss her definition of stealth. I held my wand out as Hermione and I followed her into the room.

On a magnificent four-poster bed with dusty hangings lay Crookshanks, purring loudly at the sight of us. On the floor beside him, clutching his leg, which stuck out at a strange angle, was Ron.

Hermione, Kat, and I dashed across to him.

"Ron—are you okay?"

"Where's the dog?"

"Not a dog," Ron moaned. His teeth were gritted with pain. "Harry, Kat, it's a trap—"

"What—"

"He's the dog...he's an Animagus..."

Ron was staring over my shoulder. I wheeled around. With a snap, the man in the shadows closed the door behind us.

A mass of filthy, matted hair hung to his elbows. If eyes hadn't been shining out of the deep, dark sockets, he might have been a corpse. The waxy skin was stretched so tightly over the bones of his face, it looked like a skull. His yellow teeth were bared in a grin. It was Sirius Black.

"Expelliarmus!" he croaked, pointing Ron's wand at us.

Two wands shot high in the air, and Black caught them. Then he took a step closer. His eyes were fixed on Kat and I.

"I thought you'd come and help your friend," he said hoarsely. His voice sounded as though he had long since lost the habit of using it. "James and Eliana would have done the same for me. Brave of you, not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful...it will make everything much easier..."

The taunt about my father rang in my ears as though Black had bellowed it. A boiling hate erupted in my chest, leaving no place for fear. For the first time in my life, I wanted my wand back in my hand, not to defend myself, but to attack...to kill. Without knowing what I was doing, I started forward, but there was a sudden movement on either side of me and two pairs of hands grabbed me and held me back..."No, Harry!" Hermione gasped in a petrified whisper; Ron, however, spoke to Black.

"If you want to kill Harry and Kat, you'll have to kill us too!" he said fiercely, though the effort of standing upright was draining him of still more color, and he swayed slightly as he spoke.

Something flickered in Black's shadowed eyes.

"Lie down," he said quietly to Ron. "You will damage that leg even more."

"Did you hear me?" Ron said weakly, though he was clinging painfully to me to stay upright. "You'll have to kill all four of us!"

"There'll be only one murder here tonight," said Black, and his grin widened.

"Why's that?" I spat, trying to wrench myself free of Ron and Hermione. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Kat had frozen where she stood; glaring at Sirius with just as much hatred as I was. "Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew...What's the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?"

"Harry!" Hermione whimpered. "Be quiet!"

"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" I roared, and with a huge effort I broke free of Hermione's and Ron's restraint and lunged forward—

I had forgotten about magic—I forgot that I was short and skinny and thirteen, whereas Black was a tall, full-grown man—all I knew was that I wanted to hurt Black as badly as I could and that I didn't care how much I got hurt in return—

Perhaps it was the shock of me doing something so stupid, but Black didn't raise the wands in time—one of my hands fastened over his wasted wrist, forcing the wand tips away; the knuckles of my other hand collided with the side of Black's head and we fell, backward, into the wall—

Hermione was screaming; Ron was yelling; Kat was still standing there unsure of what to do; there was a blinding flash as the wands in Black's hand sent a jet of sparks into the air that missed my face by inches; I felt the shrunken arm under my fingers twisting madly, but I clung on, my other hand punching every part of Black I could find.

But Black's free hand had found my throat—

"No," he hissed, "I've waited too long—"

The fingers tightened, I choked, my glasses askew.

Then I saw Kat finally spring to action as her foot swing out of nowhere. Black let go of me with a grunt of pain; Ron had thrown himself on Black's wand hand and I heard a faint clatter—

I fought free of the tangle of bodies and saw my own wand rolling across the floor; I threw himself toward it but—

"Argh!"

Crookshanks had joined the fray; both sets of front claws had sunk themselves deep into my arm; I threw him off, but Crookshanks now darted toward my wand—

"NO YOU DON'T!" I roared, and I aimed a kick at Crookshanks that sent the cat flying across the room, spitting; I snatched up my wand and turned—

"Get out of the way!" I shouted at Ron, Hermione, and Kat.

They didn't need telling twice. Hermione, gasping for breath, her lip bleeding, scrambled aside, snatching up her and Ron's wands. Ron crawled to the four-poster and collapsed onto it, panting, his white face now tinged with green, both hands clutching his broken leg. Kat came over to stand by my side; her wand in her hand as well. Neither of us noticed Crookshanks slinking back over to us.

Black was sprawled at the bottom of the wall. His thin chest rose and fell rapidly as he watched Kat and I walking slowly nearer, our wands pointing straight at Black's heart.

"You two going to kill me?" he whispered.

Kat and I stopped right above him, our wands still pointing at Black's chest, looking down at him. A livid bruise was rising around Black's left eye and his nose was bleeding.

"You killed my parents...and Kat's mum - your own wife," I said, my voice shaking slightly, but my wand hand quite steady.

Black stared up at us out of those sunken eyes.

"I don't deny it," he said very quietly. "But if you knew the whole story."

"The whole story?" I repeated, a furious pounding in my ears. "You sold them to Voldemort. That's all we need to know."

"You've got to listen to me," Black said, and there was a note of urgency in his voice now. "You'll regret it if you don't...You don't understand..."

"We understand a lot better than you think," Kat and I said at the same time.

"You never heard them, did you? Our mums...trying to stop Voldemort killing us...and you did that...you did it..."

Katrina's POV

Before anyone could say another word, something ginger streaked past me; Crookshanks leapt onto Black's chest and settled himself there, right over Black's heart. Black blinked and looked down at the cat.

"Get off," he murmured, trying to push Crookshanks off him.

But Crookshanks sank his claws into Black's robes and wouldn't shift. He turned his ugly, squashed face to Harry and looked up at him with those great big eyes. To our right, Hermione gave a dry sob. As I looked closer at Crookshanks I realized that something was off and as he finally turned his eyes to look at me...I saw what it was...his eyes weren't their normal yellow, they were blue - blue like mine - exactly like mine...how was that even possible?

I stared down at Black and Crookshanks, my grip tightening on the wand as I looked at them in confusion. 

I saw Harry raise his wand. He was going to kill Black. Did I want him to? This was my father after all, shouldn't I stop Harry? But after everything he had done, Black deserved to die! I couldn't deny that. There was a very large part of me that wanted to kill him myself. But as I stared at Crookshanks, I felt myself freeze up again.

The seconds lengthened. And still Harry and I stood frozen there, wands poised, Black staring up at us, Crookshanks on his chest. Ron's ragged breathing came from near the bed; Hermione was quite silent.

And then came a new sound—

Muffled footsteps were echoing up through the floor—someone was moving downstairs.

"WE'RE UP HERE!" Hermione screamed suddenly. "WE'RE UP HERE—SIRIUS BLACK—QUICK!"

Black made a startled movement that almost dislodged Crookshanks; I gripped my wand convulsively—Do it now! said a voice in my head—but the footsteps were thundering up the stairs and neither of us had done it.

The door of the room burst open in a shower of red sparks and I wheeled around as Professor Lupin came hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, his wand raised and ready. His eyes flickered over Ron, lying on the floor, over Hermione, cowering next to the door, to Harry and I, standing there with our wands covering Black, and then to Black himself, crumpled and bleeding at our feet.

"Expelliarmus!" Lupin shouted.

Harry's wand flew once more out of his hand; so did the two Hermione was holding - I instinctively held mine tightly in anticipation, but just like when Sirius had cast the incantation, my wand made no move to leave my possession. How strange. 

Lupin caught the other wands and I discretely slipped mine back into my boot where I could easily reach it if  I needed to as we all watched Lupin move into the room, staring at Black, who still had Crookshanks lying protectively across his chest. I glanced at the cat again, still not sure what to make of his eyes - my eyes? I shook my head to clear it and refocused on Lupin as he spoke.

"Where is he, Sirius?"

I looked quickly at Lupin. I didn't understand what Lupin meant. Who was Lupin talking about? I turned to look at Black again.

Black's face was quite expressionless. For a few seconds, he didn't move at all. Then, very slowly, he raised his empty hand and pointed straight at Ron. Mystified, Harry and I glanced around at Ron, who looked bewildered.

"But then...," Lupin muttered, staring at Black so intently it seemed he was trying to read his mind, "...why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless"—Lupin's eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond Black, something none of us could see, "—unless he was the one...unless you switched...without telling me?"

Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Lupin's face, Black nodded.

"Professor," Harry interrupted loudly, "what's going on—?"

But he never finished the question, because what we saw made his voice die in his throat. Lupin was lowering his wand, gazing fixedly at Black. The Professor walked to Black's side, seized his hand, pulled him to his feet so that Crookshanks fell to the floor, and embraced Black like a brother.

Harry's POV

I felt as though the bottom had dropped out of my stomach.

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Hermione screamed.

Lupin let go of Black and turned to her. She had raised herself off the floor and was pointing at Lupin, wild-eyed. "You—you—"

"Hermione—"

"—you and him!"

"Hermione, calm down—"

"We didn't tell anyone!" Hermione shrieked. "Kat and I, we've been covering up for you—"

"Hermione, listen to me, please!" Lupin shouted. "I can explain—"

I could feel myself shaking, not with fear, but with a fresh wave of fury.

"I trusted you," I shouted at Lupin, my voice wavering out of control, "and all the time you've been his friend!"

"You're wrong," said Lupin. "I haven't been Sirius's friend, but I am now—Let me explain..."

"NO!" Hermione screamed. "Harry, Kat, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too—he's a werewolf!"

There was a ringing silence. Everyone's eyes were now on Lupin, who looked remarkably calm, though rather pale.

"Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione," he said. "Only one out of three, I'm afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don't want Harry or Kat dead..." An odd shiver passed over his face. "But I won't deny that I am a werewolf."

Ron made a valiant effort to get up again but fell back with a whimper of pain. Lupin made toward him, looking concerned, but Ron gasped,

"Get away from me, werewolf!"

Lupin stopped dead. Then, with an obvious effort, he turned to Hermione and said, "How long have you known?"

"She's known as long as I have, Professor. Since we did Professor Snape's essay..." Kat explained quietly.

"He'll be delighted," said Lupin coolly. "He assigned that essay hoping someone would realize what my symptoms meant...Did you check the lunar chart and realize that I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realize that the boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?"

"Both," Hermione said equally quiet as Kat.

Lupin forced a laugh.

"You two are the cleverest witches of your age I've ever met."

"I'm not," Hermione whispered. "If I'd been a bit cleverer, I'd have told everyone what you are!"

"But they already know," said Lupin. "At least, the staff do."

"Dumbledore hired you when he knew you were a werewolf?" Ron gasped. "Is he mad?"

"Some of the staff thought so," said Lupin. "He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I'm trustworthy—"

"AND HE WAS WRONG!" I yelled. "YOU'VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THE TIME!" I was pointing at Black, who suddenly crossed to the four-poster bed and sank onto it, his face hidden in one shaking hand. Crookshanks leapt up beside him and stepped onto his lap, purring. Ron edged away from both of them, dragging his leg.

"I have not been helping Sirius," said Lupin. "If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain. Look—"

He separated Ron's, Hermione's, and my wands and threw each back to its owner; I caught mine, too stunned to notice that Kat's had been missing from his collection.

"There," said Lupin, sticking his own wand back into his belt. "You're armed, we're not. Now will you listen?"

I didn't know what to think. Was it a trick?

"If you haven't been helping him," I said, with a furious glance at Black, "how did you know he was here?"

"The map," said Lupin. "The Marauder's Map. I was in my office examining it—"

"You know how to work it?" I said suspiciously.

"Of course I know how to work it," said Lupin, waving his hand impatiently. "I helped write it. I'm Moony—that was my friends' nickname for me at school."

"You wrote—?"

"The important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening, because I had an idea that you, Ron, Hermione, and Kat might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his hippogriff was executed. And I was right, wasn't I?"

He had started to pace up and down, looking at us. Little patches of dust rose at his feet.

"You might have been wearing your father's old cloak, Harry—"

"How d'you know about the cloak?"

"The number of times I saw James disappearing under it...," said Lupin, waving an impatient hand again. "The point is, even if you're wearing an Invisibility Cloak, you still show up on the Marauder's Map. I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid's hut. Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid, and set off back toward the castle. But you were now accompanied by somebody else."

"What?" I said. "No, we weren't!"

"I couldn't believe my eyes," said Lupin, still pacing, and ignoring my interruption. "I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?"

"No one was with us!" I said.

"And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labeled Sirius Black...I saw him collide with you; I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow—"

"One of us!" Ron said angrily.

"No, Ron," said Lupin. "Two of you."

He had stopped his pacing, his eyes moving over Ron.

"Do you think I could have a look at the rat?" he said evenly.

"What?" said Ron. "What's Scabbers got to do with it?"

"Everything," said Lupin. "Could I see him, please?"

Ron hesitated, then put a hand inside his robes. Scabbers emerged, thrashing desperately; Ron had to seize his long bald tail to stop him escaping. Crookshanks stood up on Black's leg and made a soft hissing noise. He made to jump at Scabbers once more but Black held onto him tightly, a protective gleam in his eyes. I glanced curiously at yet another sign of familiarity between the two but my focus shifted to Lupin as he moved closer to Ron. He seemed to be holding his breath as he gazed intently at Scabbers.

"What?" Ron said again, holding Scabbers close to him, looking scared. "What's my rat got to do with anything?"

"That's not a rat," croaked Sirius Black suddenly.

"What d'you mean—of course he's a rat—"

"No, he's not," said Lupin quietly. "He's a wizard."

"An Animagus," said Black, "by the name of Peter Pettigrew."

********************************************

AN - hey everyone! I apologize if this or the next chapter seem a little dull - I'm trying too put as much spin on it as possible but I've always like the Sirius reveal the way it was written - and obviously you can't say too much without revealing everything but I promise there will be more original stuff in the following chapters! Let me know what you guys think is going on with Crookshanks :p I already have a pretty clear idea of what it will be but if I see something that catches my interest I'm more than happy to add additional changes - just going with the flow right now


	56. Mooney, Wormtail, Padfoot, & Prongs...& Aquila

(AN - OMG guys/gals! The guesses that I have gotten so far; while incorrect, yet totally awesome alternatives, made me come up with the most incredibly awesomest and sweetest plot twist ever! And what's even more fantastical about it, is that I came up with the building blocks separately and it just happened to work out that everything magically fit like puzzle pieces! It all just suddenly came together I'm so excited! Y'all will love it. Unless you're crazy insane people! - the title of this chapter will be revealed in the next one!)

Katrina's POV

It took a few seconds for the absurdity of this statement to sink in. Then Ron voiced what we were thinking.

"You're both mental."

"Ridiculous!" said Hermione faintly.

"Peter Pettigrew's dead!" said Harry. "He killed him twelve years ago!" He pointed at Black, whose face twitched convulsively.

"I meant to," he growled, his yellow teeth bared, "but little Peter got the better of me...not this time, though!"

Black carefully pried Crookshanks off of him, set the ginger cat down on the bed tenderly, then suddenly lunged at Scabbers; Ron yelled with pain as Black's weight fell on his broken leg.

"Sirius, NO!" Lupin yelled, launching himself forwards and dragging Black away from Ron again, "WAIT! You can't do it just like that—they need to understand—we've got to explain—"

"We can explain afterwards!" snarled Black, trying to throw Lupin off. One hand was still clawing the air as it tried to reach Scabbers, who was squealing like a piglet, scratching Ron's face and neck as he tried to escape. I looked back and forth from Crookshanks to Black, trying to understand it all. How could someone so cruel and merciless be capable of showing such kindness? And why were they all so fixated on Ron's rat!

"They've—got—a—right—to—know—everything!" Lupin panted, still trying to restrain Black. "Ron's kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don't understand! Harry and Kat! You owe them the truth, Sirius!"

Black stopped struggling, though his hollowed eyes were still fixed on Scabbers, who was clamped tightly under Ron's bitten, scratched, and bleeding hands.

"All right, then," Black said, without taking his eyes off the rat. "Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for..."

"You're nutters, both of you," said Ron shakily, looking round at Harry, Hermione, and I for support. "I've had enough of this. I'm off."

He tried to heave himself up on his good leg, but Lupin raised his wand again, pointing it at Scabbers.

"You're going to hear me out, Ron," he said quietly. "Just keep a tight hold on Peter while you listen."

"HE'S NOT PETER, HE'S SCABBERS!" Ron yelled, trying to force the rat back into his front pocket, but Scabbers was fighting too hard; Ron swayed and overbalanced, and Harry caught him and pushed him back down to the bed. Then, ignoring Black, Harry turned to Lupin.

"There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die," he said. 

"A whole street full of them..." I added pointedly.

"They didn't see what they thought they saw!" said Black savagely, still watching Scabbers struggling in Ron's hands. I noticed Crookshanks eyeing the rat with equal intensity and stopped down to pick him up. I expected to be scratched for my efforts but instead, he purred loudly and curled up in my arms. 

"Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter," said Lupin, nodding. "I believed it myself—until I saw the map tonight. Because the Marauder's map never lies...Peter's alive. Ron's holding him."

Harry and I looked down at Ron, and as our eyes met, we agreed, silently: Black and Lupin were both out of their minds. Their story made no sense whatsoever. How could Scabbers be Peter Pettigrew? Azkaban must have unhinged Black after all—but why was Lupin playing along with him? Despite him being friends with Black, I instinctively knew Lupin would never harm Harry or I no mater what Hermione thought. But why was he siding with Black on this? Was it just a ruse? Was he simply biding his time until help arrived? 

I looked down at Crookshanks as I felt something brush my arms repeatedly. It was his tail - swinging back and forth with a gentle flick each time, his eyes still following Scabbers' every move.

Then Hermione spoke, in a trembling, would-be calm sort of voice, as though trying to will Professor Lupin to talk sensibly.

"But Professor Lupin...Scabbers can't be Pettigrew...it just can't be true, you know it can't..."

"Why can't it be true?" Lupin said calmly, as though we were in class, and Hermione had simply spotted a problem in an experiment with grindylows.

"Because...because people would know if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus -" Hermione started to explain.

"Yeah, we did Animagi in class with Professor McGonagall. And we looked them up when we did our homework—" I spoke up as I understood what Hermione was getting at.

"- the Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on witches and wizards who can become animals; there's a register showing what animal they become, and their markings and things..." Hermione continued.

"We went and looked Professor McGonagall up on the register, and there have been only seven Animagi this century, and Pettigrew's name wasn't on the list—" I suddenly paused as I realized that I was an unregistered Animagus myself...if it was possible for me to escape the Ministry's notice, then it certainly was plausible that there were other unregistered Animagi. 

"Right again! " he said. "But the Ministry never knew that there used to be four unregistered Animagi running around Hogwarts."

"If you're going to tell them the story, get a move on, Remus," snarled Black, who was still watching Scabbers's every desperate move. "I've waited twelve years, I'm not going to wait much longer."

"All right...but you'll need to help me, Sirius," said Lupin, "I only know how it began..."

Lupin broke off. There had been a loud creak behind him. The bedroom door had opened of its own accord. All six of us stared at it. Then Lupin strode toward it and looked out into the landing.

"No one there..."

"This place is haunted!" said Ron.

"It's not," said Lupin, still looking at the door in a puzzled way. "The Shrieking Shack was never haunted... The screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me."

He pushed his graying hair out of his eyes, thought for a moment, then said, "That's where all of this starts—with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitten...and if I hadn't been so foolhardy..."

He looked sober and tired. Ron started to interrupt, but Hermione and I said, "Shh!" We were both watching Lupin very intently.

"I was a very small boy when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days there was no cure. The potion that Professor Snape has been making for me is a very recent discovery. It makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform...I am able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again.

"Before the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered, however, I became a fully fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible that I would be able to come to Hogwarts. Other parents weren't likely to want their children exposed to me.

"But then Dumbledore became Headmaster, and he was sympathetic. He said that as long as we took certain precautions, there was no reason I shouldn't come to school..." Lupin sighed, and looked directly at Harry and I. "I told you, months ago, that the Whomping Willow was planted the year I came to Hogwarts. The truth is that it was planted because I came to Hogwarts. This house"—Lupin looked miserably around the room,—"the tunnel that leads to it—they were built for my use. Once a month, I was smuggled out of the castle, into this place, to transform. The tree was placed at the tunnel mouth to stop anyone coming across me while I was dangerous."

I couldn't see where this story was going, but I was listening raptly all the same. The only sound apart from Lupin's voice was Scabbers's frightened squeaking and the low hum of Crookshanks' purr. 

"My transformations in those days were—were terrible. It is very painful to turn into a werewolf. I was separated from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. The villagers heard the noise and the screaming and thought they were hearing particularly violent spirits. Dumbledore encouraged the rumor...Even now, when the house has been silent for years, the villagers don't dare approach it...

"But apart from my transformations, I was happier than I had ever been in my life. For the first time ever, I had friends, four great friends. Sirius Black...Peter Pettigrew...James Potter and Eliana Dumbledore.

"Now, my four friends could hardly fail to notice that I disappeared once a month. I made up all sorts of stories. I told them my mother was ill, and that I had to go home to see her...I was terrified they would desert me the moment they found out what I was. But of course, they, like you, Hermione and Kat, worked out the truth...it was actually Eliana who first found out. I'll never forget the kindness she showed me. She was eventually able to convince me to tell the others.

"And they didn't desert me at all. Instead, they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became Animagi."

"My dad too?" said Harry, astounded.

"My mum was an Animagus?" I blurted out at the same time.

"Yes, indeed," said Lupin. "It took them the best part of three years to work out how to do it. Eliana, James, and Sirius were the cleverest students in the school, and lucky they were, because the Animagus transformation can go horribly wrong—one reason the Ministry keeps a close watch on those attempting to do it. Peter needed all the help he could get from James and Sirius. Finally, in our fifth year, they managed it. They could each turn into a different animal at will."

"But how did that help you?" said Hermione, sounding puzzled.

"They couldn't keep me company as humans, so they kept me company as animals," said Lupin. "A werewolf is only a danger to people. They sneaked out of the castle every month under James's Invisibility Cloak. They transformed...Peter, as the smallest, could slip beneath the Willow's attacking branches and touch the knot that freezes it. They would then slip down the tunnel and join me. Under their influence, I became less dangerous. My body was still wolfish, but my mind seemed to become less so while I was with them."

"Hurry up, Remus," snarled Black, who was still watching Scabbers with a horrible sort of hunger on his face.

"I'm getting there, Sirius, I'm getting there...well, highly exciting possibilities were open to us now that we could all transform. Soon we were leaving the Shrieking Shack and roaming the school grounds and the village by night. Sirius and James transformed into such large animals, they were able to keep a werewolf in check and Eliana was able to use her form to keep a watch on us. Though she was not happy about it and eventually refused to join in on our foolish escapades. I doubt whether any Hogwarts students ever found out more about the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade than we did...And that's how we came to write the Marauder's Map, and sign it with our nicknames. Sirius is Padfoot. Peter is Wormtail. James was Prongs."

"What sort of animal—?" Harry began, but Hermione cut him off.

"Eliana was right, that was really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you'd given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?"

"A thought that still haunts me," said Lupin heavily. "And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless—carried away with our own cleverness."

"I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore's trust, of course...he had admitted me to Hogwarts when no other headmaster would have done so, and he had no idea I was breaking the rules he had set down for my own and others' safety. He never knew I had led four fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally. But I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan our next month's adventure. And I haven't changed...

Lupin's face had hardened, and there was self-disgust in his voice. "All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn't do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I'd betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I'd led others along with me...his own daughter...and Dumbledore's trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using dark arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it...so, in a way, Snape's been right about me all along."

"Snape?" said Black harshly, taking his eyes off Scabbers for the first time in minutes and looking up at Lupin. "What's Snape got to do with it?"

"He's here, Sirius," said Lupin heavily. "He's teaching here as well." He looked up at Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons...you see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me—"

Black made a derisive noise.

"It served him right," he sneered. "Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to...hoping he could get us expelled..."

"Severus was very interested in where I went every month." Lupin told Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I. "We were in the same year, you know, and we—er—didn't like each other very much. He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think, of James's talent on the Quidditch field and all the time Eliana started spending with us at - they were best friends...anyway Snape had seen me crossing the grounds with Madam Pomfrey one evening as she led me toward the Whomping Willow to transform. Sirius thought it would be—er—amusing, to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree trunk with a long stick, and he'd be able to get in after me. Well, of course, Snape tried it—if he'd got as far as this house, he'd have met a fully grown werewolf—but James and Eliana, who'd heard what Sirius had done, went after Snape and pulled him back, at great risk to their lives...Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that time on he knew what I was..."

"So that's why Snape doesn't like you," said Harry slowly, "because he thought you were in on the joke?"

"That's right," sneered a cold voice from the wall behind Lupin.

I looked over in surprise to see that my godfather was pulling off the Invisibility Cloak, his wand pointing directly at Lupin.


	57. The Servant of Lord Voldemort

Katrina's POV

"Expelliarmus!" 

Hermione screamed as wands soared into the air once more. Black leapt to his feet. I stood still but glanced at Harry in shock.

"I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow," said Sev, throwing the cloak aside, careful to keep his own wand pointing directly at Lupin's chest. "Very useful, Potter, I thank you..."

My godfather was slightly breathless, but his face was full of suppressed triumph. "You're wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here?" he said, his eyes glittering. "I've just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And very lucky I did... lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight."

"Severus—" Lupin began, but Snape overrode him.

"I've told the headmaster again and again that you were helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here's the proof. Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout—"

"Severus, you're making a mistake," said Lupin urgently. "You haven't heard everything—I can explain—Sirius is not here to kill Harry or Kat—"

"Two more for Azkaban tonight," said Sev, his eyes now gleaming fanatically. "I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this...He was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin...a tame werewolf—" I gasped as Crookshanks caught me unawares as he tried to leap out of my arms. I held on tight as the cat struggled in my arms and scratched me as I looked at my godfather, surprised by the icy tone in his voice. 

"You fool," said Lupin softly. "Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban?" I yelped as Crookshanks finally managed to escape and landed with a triumphant yowl before dashing off towards Lupin and Sev. 

BANG! Thin, snakelike cords burst from the end of Snape's wand and twisted themselves around Lupin's mouth, wrists, and ankles; he overbalanced and fell to the floor, unable to move. With a roar of rage, Black started toward Snape, but Snape pointed his wand straight between Black's eyes.

"Give me a reason," he whispered. "Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will."

Black stopped dead. It would have been impossible to say which face showed more hatred. The ginger cat once again flew into the air to land on Black's chest. He quickly pulled the cat into a more comfortable position in his arms, never breaking his gaze with my godfather. 

Harry and I stood there, paralyzed, not knowing what to do or whom to believe. I glanced around at Ron and Hermione. Ron looked just as confused as Harry and I did, still fighting to keep hold on the struggling Scabbers. Hermione, however, took an uncertain step toward Sev and said, in a very breathless voice, "Professor Snape—it—it wouldn't hurt to hear what they've got to say, w—would it?"

"Miss Granger, you are already facing suspension from this school," Snape spat. "You, Potter, and Weasley are out-of-bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your life, hold your tongue." Once again I noticed how he failed to mention my name. Why did he always do that? It was like he thought not saying my name meant that I wasn't just as guilty as my friends. How absurd!

"But if—if there was a mistake—"

"KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!" Severus shouted, looking suddenly quite deranged. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" A few sparks shot out of the end of his wand, which was still pointed at Black's face. Hermione fell silent.

Crookshanks hissed loudly at the same time as I stepped forward, angry that my godfather was speaking to my best friend in such a manner. But he began to speak again before I could shout at him.

"Vengeance is very sweet," Snape breathed at Black. "How I hoped I would be the one to catch you..."

"The joke's on you again, Severus," Black snarled. "As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle"—he jerked his head at Ron—"I'll come quietly..."

"Up to the castle?" said Snape silkily. "I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black...pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I daresay..."

What little color there was in Black's face left it. Hermione's cat hissed loudly again and I saw Black hug him tightly and stroke his head comfortingly. 

"You—you've got to hear me out," he croaked. "The rat—look at the rat—"

But there was a mad glint in Sev's eyes that I had never seen before. He seemed beyond reason.

"Come on, all of you," he said. He clicked his fingers, and the ends of the cords that bound Lupin flew to his hands. "I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the dementors will have a kiss for him too—" 

As Crookshanks yowled angrily again, I reached down towards my boot. Before I knew what I knew what I was doing, I had pulled my wand out from where it had remained in spite of Sev's spell and held it behind my back as Harry and I crossed the room in three strides and blocked the door. 

"Get out of the way, Potter, Katrina. You're in enough trouble already young lady," snarled Sev. "If I hadn't been here to save your skins—"

"Professor Lupin could have killed us about a hundred times this year," I said. "We've been alone with him loads of times, having defense lessons. If he was helping Black, why didn't he just finish us off then?"

"Don't ask me to fathom the way a werewolf's mind works," hissed Snape. "Get out of the way!" I glared at my godfather and stood firmly where I was, not planning to move anytime soon.

"YOU'RE PATHETIC!" Harry yelled from beside me. "JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON'T EVEN LISTEN—"

"SILENCE! I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT!" Snape shrieked, looking madder than ever. "Like father, like son, Potter! I have just saved your neck; you should be thanking me on bended knee! You would have been well served if he'd killed you! You'd have died like your father, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black—now get out of the way, or I will make you. GET OUT OF THE WAY, POTTER!"

I was about to go against my previous statement and move once more - so as to stand in front of Harry, when an orangey blur rushed past and got there before me. We all watched anxiously as Snape considered Hermione's cat, his wand still raised.

"Sev...you have to let them explain...please?" I cried out when the silence had grown unbearable. My godfather was so busy staring into the ginger cat's eyes that I wasn't sure if he heard me though. His hand seemed to falter as he looked at the cat, but as his eyes fell back to Sirius, they hardened once more and he raised his wand higher.

I made up my mind in a split second. Before Sev could take even one step toward us, I had raised my wand.

"Expelliarmus!" I yelled. There was a blast that made the door rattle on its hinges; my godfather was lifted off his feet and slammed into the wall, then slid down it to the floor, a trickle of blood oozing from under his hair. He had been knocked out.

I ran towards him as I caught the bundle of wands, horrified by what I had done. 

"You shouldn't have done that," said Black, looking at me. "You should have left him to me..."

"Oh, yeah...because you totally would have been able to take Sev on without your wand," I said, rolling my eyes but refused to look at the man as I handed Ron, Hermione, and Harry back their wands. 

I avoided Black's eyes and released Lupin from his bonds and handed him his wand as well. I wasn't sure, even now, that I'd done the right thing.

"You attacked a teacher...You attacked a teacher...," Hermione whimpered, staring at the lifeless Snape with frightened eyes. "Oh, we're going to be in so much trouble—" No, I attacked my godfather, I thought to myself, still horrified by what I had done.

"Thank you, Kat," Lupin said as I helped him up off the ground.

"I'm still not saying I believe you," I told Lupin.

"Then it's time we offered you all some proof," said Lupin. "You, boy—give me Peter, please. Now."

Ron clutched Scabbers closer to his chest.

"Come off it," he said weakly. "Are you trying to say he broke out of Azkaban just to get his hands on Scabbers? I mean..." He looked up at Harry, Hermione, and I for support, "Okay, say Pettigrew could turn into a rat—there are millions of rats—how's he supposed to know which one he's after if he was locked up in Azkaban?"

"You know, Sirius, that's a fair question," said Lupin, turning to Black and frowning slightly. "How did you find out where he was?"

Black put one of his clawlike hands inside his robes and took out a crumpled piece of paper, which he smoothed flat and held out to show us.

It was the photograph of Ron and his family that had appeared in the Daily Prophet the previous summer, and there, on Ron's shoulder, was Scabbers.

"How did you get this?" Lupin asked Black, thunderstruck.

"Fudge," said Black. "When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter, on the front page...on this boy's shoulder...I knew him at once...how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said the boy would be going back to Hogwarts...to where Harry and Kat were..."

"My God," said Lupin softly, staring from Scabbers to the picture in the paper and back again. "His front paw..."

"What about it?" said Ron defiantly.

"He's got a toe missing," said Black.

"Of course," Lupin breathed. "So simple...so brilliant...he cut it off himself?"

"Just before he transformed," said Black. "When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I'd betrayed Lily, James, and Eliana. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself—and sped down into the sewer with the other rats...

"Didn't you ever hear, Ron?" said Lupin. "The biggest bit of Peter they found was his finger."

"Look, Scabbers probably had a fight with another rat or something! He's been in my family for ages, right—"

"Twelve years, in fact," said Lupin. "Didn't you ever wonder why he was living so long?"

"We—we've been taking good care of him!" said Ron.

"Not looking too good at the moment, though, is he?" said Lupin. "I'd guess he's been losing weight ever since he heard Sirius was on the loose again..."

"He's been scared of that mad cat!" said Ron, nodding toward Crookshanks, who was back in Blacks arms and purring softly.

But that wasn't right, I thought suddenly...Scabbers had been looking ill before he met Crookshanks...ever since Ron's return from Egypt...Harry had told me they'd had him checked out over the summer - which would have been around the time when Black had escaped...

"This cat isn't mad," said Black hoarsely. He reached out a bony hand and stroked Crookshanks's fluffy head. As he looked from the cat to me, I could have sworn he winked, but I ignored it; attributing it to a trick of the light. 

"He's the most intelligent of his kind I've ever met. He recognized Peter for what he was right away. And when he met me, he knew I was no dog. It was a while before he trusted me...Finally, I managed to communicate to him what I was after, and he's been helping me..."

"What do you mean?" breathed Hermione.

"He tried to bring Peter to me, but couldn't...so he stole the passwords into Gryffindor Tower for me...As I understand it, he took them from a boy's bedside table..."

My brain seemed to be sagging under the weight of what we were hearing. Poor Neville. It was absurd...and yet...

"But Peter got wind of what was going on and ran for it..." croaked Black. "This cat—Crookshanks, did you call him?—told me Peter had left blood on the sheets...I supposed he bit himself... Well, faking his own death had worked once..." 

These words jolted Harry out of his silence, but I stayed quiet.

"And why did he fake his death?" he said furiously. "Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed our parents!"

"No," said Lupin, "Harry—"

"And now you've come to finish him off!"

"Yes, I have," said Black, with an evil look at Scabbers.

"Then Kat should've let Snape take you!" Harry shouted. I frowned, still not sure who to believe.

"Harry, Kat," said Lupin hurriedly, "don't you see? All this time we've thought Sirius betrayed your parents, and Peter tracked him down—but it was the other way around, don't you see? Peter betrayed Lilly, James, and Eliana—Sirius tracked Peter down—"

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Harry yelled. "HE WAS THEIR SECRET-KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP. HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!"

He was pointing at Black, who shook his head slowly; the sunken eyes were suddenly overbright.

"...I as good as killed them," he croaked. "I persuaded Lily, James, and my wife to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me...I'm to blame, I know it...The night they died, I'd arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he'd gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn't feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents' house straight away. We had decided it would be easier for everyone if Eliana and Kat stayed at the Potters, plus you and Kat were already inseparable. And when I saw the house, destroyed, and their bodies...I realized what Peter must've done...what I'd done..."

His voice broke. He turned away.

"Enough of this," said Lupin, and there was a steely note in his voice I had never heard before. "There's one certain way to prove what really happened. Ron, give me that rat."

"What are you going to do with him if I give him to you?" Ron asked Lupin tensely.

"Force him to show himself," said Lupin. "If he really is a rat, it won't hurt him."

Ron hesitated. Then at long last, he held out Scabbers and Lupin took him. Scabbers began to squeak without stopping, twisting and turning, his tiny black eyes bulging in his head.

"Ready, Sirius?" said Lupin.

Black had already retrieved Snape's wand from the bed where I had placed it earlier. He approached Lupin and the struggling rat, and his wet eyes suddenly seemed to be burning in his face.

"Together?" he said quietly.

"I think so," said Lupin, holding Scabbers tightly in one hand and his wand in the other. "On the count of three. One—two—THREE!"

A flash of blue-white light erupted from both wands; for a moment, Scabbers was frozen in midair, his small gray form twisting madly—Ron yelled—the rat fell and hit the floor. There was another blinding flash of light and then—

It was like watching a speeded-up film of a growing tree. A head was shooting upward from the ground; limbs were sprouting; a moment later, a man was standing where Scabbers had been, cringing and wringing his hands. Crookshanks was spitting and snarling on the bed; the hair on his back was standing up as his blue eyes stared at the man in front of us.

He was a very short man, hardly taller than Harry. His thin, colorless hair was unkempt and there was a large bald patch on top. He had the shrunken appearance of a plump man who has lost a lot of weight in a short time. His skin looked grubby, almost like Scabbers's fur, and something of the rat lingered around his pointed nose and his very small, watery eyes. He looked around at us all, his breathing fast and shallow. I saw his eyes dart to the door and back again.

"Well, hello, Peter," said Lupin pleasantly, as though rats frequently erupted into old school friends around him. "Long time, no see."

"S—Sirius...R—Remus..." Even Pettigrew's voice was squeaky. Again, his eyes darted toward the door. "My friends...my old friends..."

Black's wand arm rose, but Lupin seized him around the wrist, gave him a warning look, then turned again to Pettigrew, his voice light and casual.

"We've been having a little chat, Peter, about what happened the night Lily, James, and Eliana died. You might have missed the finer points while you were squeaking around down there on the bed—"

"Remus," gasped Pettigrew, and I could see beads of sweat breaking out over his pasty face, "you don't believe him, do you...? He tried to kill me, Remus..."

"So we've heard," said Lupin, more coldly. "I'd like to clear up one or two little matters with you, Peter, if you'd be so—"

"He's come to try and kill me again!" Pettigrew squeaked suddenly, pointing at Black, and I saw that he used his middle finger, because his index was missing. "He killed Lily, James, and Eliana, and now he's going to kill me too...You've got to help me, Remus..."

Black's face looked more skull-like than ever as he stared at Pettigrew with his fathomless eyes.

"No one's going to try and kill you until we've sorted a few things out," said Lupin.

"Sorted things out?" squealed Pettigrew, looking wildly about him once more, eyes taking in the boarded windows and, again, the only door. "I knew he'd come after me! I knew he'd be back for me! I've been waiting for this for twelve years!"

"You knew Sirius was going to break out of Azkaban?" said Lupin, his brow furrowed. "When nobody has ever done it before?"

"He's got dark powers the rest of us can only dream of!" Pettigrew shouted shrilly. "How else did he get out of there? I suppose He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named taught him a few tricks!"

Black started to laugh, a horrible, mirthless laugh that filled the whole room.

"Voldemort, teach me tricks?" he said.

Pettigrew flinched as though Black had brandished a whip at him.

"What, scared to hear your old master's name?" said Black. "I don't blame you, Peter. His lot aren't very happy with you, are they?"

"Don't know what you mean, Sirius—" muttered Pettigrew, his breathing faster than ever. His whole face was shining with sweat now.

"You haven't been hiding from me for twelve years," said Black. "You've been hiding from Voldemort's old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter...They all think you're dead, or you'd have to answer to them...I've heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sounds like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to the Potters' on your information...and Voldemort met his downfall there. And not all Voldemort's supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? There are still plenty out here, biding their time, pretending they've seen the error of their ways...If they ever got wind that you were still alive, Peter—"

"Don't know...what you're talking about...," said Pettigrew again, more shrilly than ever. He wiped his face on his sleeve and looked up at Lupin. "You don't believe this—this madness, Remus—"

"I must admit, Peter, I have difficulty in understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat," said Lupin evenly.

"Innocent, but scared!" squealed Pettigrew. "If Voldemort's supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban—the spy, Sirius Black!"

Black's face contorted.

"How dare you," he growled, sounding suddenly like the bear-sized dog he had been. "I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? But you, Peter—I'll never understand why I didn't see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who'd look after you, didn't you? It used to be us...me and Remus... and James...but I should have known...you never left Eliana alone...what, were you hoping Voldemort would give her to you once he had his fun? Don't think I didn't see the way you looked at her!" 

Pettigrew wiped his face again; he was almost panting for breath.

"Me, a spy...must be out of your mind... never...don't know how you can say such a—"

"They only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it," Black hissed, so venomously that Pettigrew took a step backward. "I thought it was the perfect plan...a bluff...Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they'd use a weak, talentless thing like you...It must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters and another way to get back at Dumbledore in one fell swoop!"

Pettigrew was muttering distractedly; I caught words like "far-fetched" and "lunacy," but I couldn't help paying more attention to the ashen color of Pettigrew's face and the way his eyes continued to dart toward the windows and door.

"Professor Lupin?" said Hermione timidly. "Can—can I say something?"

"Certainly, Hermione," said Lupin courteously.

"Well—Scabbers—I mean, this—this man—he's been sleeping in Harry's dormitory for three years. If he's working for You-Know-Who, how come he never tried to hurt Harry or Kat before now? I mean she spends as much time in Gryffindor Tower as the rest of us! He could have easily gotten to either of them.

"There!" said Pettigrew shrilly, pointing at Ron with his maimed hand. "Thank you! You see, Remus? I have never hurt a hair on Harry's or Kat's heads! Why should I?" I clenched my teeth as he used the shortened version of my name. Something about it felt wrong, especially if Lupin and Sirius were right about him.

"I'll tell you why," said Black. "Because you never did anything for anyone unless you could see what was in it for you. Voldemort's been in hiding for fifteen years, they say he's half dead. You weren't about to commit murder right under Albus Dumbledore's nose, for a wreck of a wizard who'd lost all of his power, were you? You'd want to be quite sure he was the biggest bully in the playground before you went back to him, wouldn't you? Why else did you find a wizard family to take you in? Keeping an ear out for news, weren't you, Peter? Just in case your old protector regained strength, and it was safe to rejoin him..."

Pettigrew opened his mouth and closed it several times. He seemed to have lost the ability to talk.

"Er—Mr. Black—Sirius?" said Hermione.

Black jumped at being addressed like this and stared at Hermione as though he had never seen anything quite like her.

"If you don't mind me asking, how—how did you get out of Azkaban, if you didn't use Dark Magic?"

"Thank you!" gasped Pettigrew, nodding frantically at her. "Exactly! Precisely what I—"

But Lupin silenced him with a look. Black was frowning slightly at Hermione, but not as though he were annoyed with her. He seemed to be pondering his answer.

"I don't know how I did it," he said slowly. "I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent...That wasn't a happy thought, so the dementors couldn't suck it out of me...but it kept me sane and knowing who I am...helped me keep my powers...so when it all became...too much...I could transform in my cell...become a dog. Dementors can't see, you know..." He swallowed. "They feel their way toward people by feeding off their emotions...They could tell that my feelings were less—less human, less complex when I was a dog...but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like everyone else in there, so it didn't trouble them. But I was weak, very weak, and I had no hope of driving them away from me without a wand...

"But then I saw Peter in that picture...I realized he was at Hogwarts with Harry and Katrina...perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached his ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again..."

Pettigrew was shaking his head, mouthing noiselessly, but staring all the while at Black as though hypnotized.

"...ready to strike at the moment he could be sure of allies...and to deliver the last Potter to them along with my little princess. If he gave them Harry, and Katrina, who'd dare say he'd betrayed Lord Voldemort? He'd be welcomed back with honors...

"So you see, I had to do something. I was the only one who knew Peter was still alive..."

"It was as if someone had lit a fire in my head, and the dementors couldn't destroy it...It wasn't a happy feeling...it was an obsession...but it gave me strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring food, I slipped past them as a dog...It's so much harder for them to sense animal emotions that they were confused...I was thin, very thin...thin enough to slip through the bars...I swam as a dog back to the mainland...I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog. I've been living in the forest ever since, except when I came to watch the Quidditch, of course. You fly as well as your parents did..."

He looked at Harry and I, who did not look away this time. I stared at my father. Was it really possible that he was innocent? I felt my heart strings tug as the weight on them began to lift.

"Believe me," croaked Black. "Believe me, Harry. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them."

And at long last, I could tell Harry believed him and he nodded silently. Then Sirius turned to look at me.

"Please believe me, little one. Your mother was ab initio mi omnia. (From the beginning, my everything) I would never have betrayed her, or you." I blinked furiously as a distant part of my mind translated the Latin words. I slowly nodded as Harry had.

"No!"

Pettigrew had fallen to his knees as though our nods had been his own death sentence. He shuffled forward on his knees, groveling, his hands clasped in front of him as though praying.

"Sirius—it's me...it's Peter...your friend...you wouldn't..."

Black kicked out and Pettigrew recoiled.

"There's enough filth on my robes without you touching them," my father said.

"Remus!" Pettigrew squeaked, turning to Lupin instead, writhing imploringly in front of him. "You don't believe this...wouldn't Sirius have told you they'd changed the plan?"

"Not if he thought I was the spy, Peter," said Lupin. "I assume that's why you didn't tell me, Sirius?" he said casually over Pettigrew's head.

"Forgive me, Remus," said Sirius.

"Not at all, Padfoot, old friend," said Lupin, who was now rolling up his sleeves. "And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing you were the spy?"

"Of course," said Sirius, and the ghost of a grin flitted across his gaunt face. He, too, began rolling up his sleeves. "Shall we kill him together?"

"Yes, I think so," said Lupin grimly.

"You wouldn't...you won't...," gasped Pettigrew. And he scrambled around to Ron.

"Ron...haven't I been a good friend...a good pet? You won't let them kill me, Ron, will you...you're on my side, aren't you?"

But Ron was staring at Pettigrew with the utmost revulsion.

"I let you sleep in my bed!" he said.

"Kind boy...kind master..." Pettigrew crawled toward Ron, "you won't let them do it...I was your rat...I was a good pet..."

"If you made a better rat than a human, it's not much to boast about, Peter," said my father harshly. Ron, going still paler with pain, wrenched his broken leg out of Pettigrew's reach. Pettigrew turned on his knees, staggered forward, and seized the hem of Hermione's robes.

"Sweet girl...clever girl...you—you won't let them...Help me..."

Hermione pulled her robes out of Pettigrew's clutching hands and backed away against the wall, looking horrified.

Pettigrew knelt, trembling uncontrollably, and turned his head slowly toward Harry and I.

"Harry...Harry...you look just like your father...just like him...and your mother, Katrina...so beautiful...just like her..." I stepped back as his eyes gleamed hungrily as he stared at me.

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY AND MY DAUGHTER?" roared Black. "HOW DARE YOU FACE THEM! HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES AND ELIANA IN FRONT OF THEM!

"Harry, Kat," whispered Pettigrew, shuffling toward us, hands outstretched. "James and Eliana wouldn't have wanted me killed...they would have understood...they would have shown me mercy..." he got up close to me and I could feel his stale breath on my face. I stumbled into Harry as I tried to distance myself from the vile creature before me. I felt Harry's arms wrap around me protectively as we stared at Peter. 

Both Sirius and Lupin strode forward, seized Pettigrew's shoulders, and threw him backward onto the floor. He sat there, twitching with terror, staring up at them.

"You sold Lily, James, and Eliana to Voldemort," said Sirius, who was shaking too. "Do you deny it?"

Pettigrew burst into tears. It was horrible to watch, like an oversized, balding baby, cowering on the floor.

"Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord...you have no idea...he has weapons you can't imagine...I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen...He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me—"

"DON'T LIE!" bellowed Black. "YOU'D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY, JAMES, AND ELIANA DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!"

"He—he was taking over everywhere!" gasped Pettigrew. "Wh—what was there to be gained by refusing him?"

"What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?" said my father, with a terribly fury in his face. "Only innocent lives, Peter!"

"You don't understand!" whined Pettigrew. "He would have killed me, Sirius!"

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!" roared Sirius. "DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"

Sirius and Lupin stood shoulder to shoulder, wands raised.

"You should have realized," said Lupin quietly, "if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Good-bye, Peter."

Hermione covered her face with her hands and turned to the wall.

"NO!" Harry and I yelled. We ran forward, placing ourselves in front of Pettigrew, facing the wands. "You can't kill him," I said breathlessly. "You can't."

Black and Lupin both looked staggered.

"Harry, Katrina, this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents," Sirius snarled. "This cringing bit of filth would have seen you two die as well, without turning a hair. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family." I glared down at Peter at this, but as much as I hated to admit it, he had been right about one thing - I doubted whether Harry's parents or my mother would have wanted Lupin and Sirius to become killers - even if it was only to avenge their murders.

"I know," Harry panted. "We'll take him up to the castle. We'll hand him over to the dementors...He can go to Azkaban...but don't kill him."

"Harry! Sweet, beautiful Katrina!" gasped Pettigrew, and he flung his arms around our knees. "You—thank you—it's more than I deserve—thank you—"

"You're right, it is!" I said coldly as I kicked him as hard as I could, not feeling any remorse for any pain I might have caused. This man was the reason my father had been stuck in jail for 13 years! 

"Get off me," Harry spat, throwing Pettigrew's hands off him in disgust. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it because—I don't reckon my dad or Kat's mum would've wanted them to become killers—just for you."

No one moved or made a sound except Pettigrew, whose breath was coming in wheezes as he clutched his chest. Sirius and Lupin were looking at each other. Then, with one movement, they lowered their wands.

"You're the only two people who have the right to decide," said Sirius. "But think...think what he did..."

"He can go to Azkaban," Harry repeated. "If anyone deserves that place, he does..."

Pettigrew was still wheezing behind him.

"Very well," said Lupin. "Stand aside, you two."

We hesitated.

"I'm going to tie him up," said Lupin. "That's all, I swear."

We stepped out of the way. Thin cords shot from Lupin's wand this time, and next moment, Pettigrew was wriggling on the floor, bound and gagged.

"But if you transform, Peter," growled Sirius, his own wand pointing at Pettigrew too, "we will kill you. You agree, Harry, Katrina?"

Harry and I looked down at the pitiful figure on the floor and nodded so that Pettigrew could see us.

"Right," said Lupin, suddenly businesslike. "Ron, I can't mend bones nearly as well as Madam Pomfrey, so I think it's best if we just strap your leg up until we can get you to the hospital wing."

He hurried over to Ron, bent down, tapped Ron's leg with his wand, and muttered, "Ferula." Bandages spun up Ron's leg, strapping it tightly to a splint. Lupin helped him to his feet; Ron put his weight gingerly on the leg and didn't wince.

"That's better," he said. "Thanks."

"What about Professor Snape?" said Hermione in a small voice, looking down at Snape's prone figure.

"There's nothing seriously wrong with him," said Lupin, bending over my godfather and checking his pulse. "Kat was just a little—overenthusiastic. Still out cold. Er—perhaps it will be best if we don't revive him until we're safely back in the castle. We can take him like this..."

He muttered, "Mobilicorpus." As though invisible strings were tied to Snape's wrists, neck, and knees, he was pulled into a standing position, head still lolling unpleasantly, like a grotesque puppet. He hung a few inches above the ground, his limp feet dangling. Lupin picked up the Invisibility Cloak and tucked it safely into his pocket.

"And two of us should be chained to this," said Sirius, nudging Pettigrew with his toe. "Just to make sure."

"I'll do it," said Lupin.

"And me," said Ron savagely, limping forward.

My father conjured heavy manacles from thin air; soon Pettigrew was upright again, left arm chained to Lupin's right, right arm to Ron's left. Ron's face was set. He seemed to have taken Scabbers's true identity as a personal insult. Crookshanks leapt lightly off the bed and led the way out of the room, his bottlebrush tail held jauntily high.

********************************************

AN - ok I may have lied, you'll find out about Aquila in the next chapter sorry! Don't hate me lol. Hope you enjoyed this one though! Feel free to share your thoughts - should be able to crank out at least one or two more chapters tonight!

In-Line Comments

\- anyone else wonder how the cat told him? Lol nowhere else in the books does it mention cats speaking - Aragog, and the Centaurs sure, but not cats lol - so did he act it out cat theatre style or something? Lmao just food for thought  
\- Really wanted to steal Eomer's lines to Wormtongue but since I'm planning on a LOTR story as well I'll leave that for later :p - hopefully y'all understand what I'm talking about! Cuz yes, I'm saying it, LOTR is just a tinsy bit better than HP!)


	58. The Dementor’s Kiss

Harry's POV

I had never been part of a stranger group. Crookshanks led the way down the stairs; Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron went next, looking like entrants in a six-legged race. Next came Professor Snape, drifting creepily along, his toes hitting each stair as we descended, held up by his own wand, which was being pointed at him by Sirius. Hermione, Kat, and I brought up the rear.

Getting back into the tunnel was difficult. Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron had to turn sideways to manage it; Lupin still had Pettigrew covered with his wand. I could see them edging awkwardly along the tunnel in single file. Crookshanks was still in the lead. I went right after Black, who was still making Snape drift along ahead of them; he kept bumping his lolling head on the low ceiling. I had the impression Black was making no effort to prevent this.

"You know what this means?" Black said abruptly to Kat and I as we made our slow progress along the tunnel. "Turning Pettigrew in?"

"You're free," we said at once.

"Yes...," said Black. "But I'm also—I don't know if anyone ever told you, Harry, but I'm your godfather."

"Yeah, I knew that," I said.

"And I know that you're my father!" Kat added. I looked up sharply at this and stared at Sirius to see what he would say. He just nodded but glanced at me suspiciously as he noticed my reaction.

"Well...your parents appointed me your guardian," said Black stiffly. "If anything happened to them..."

I waited. Did Black mean what I thought he meant?

"I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle," said Black. "But...well...think about it. Once my name's cleared...if you wanted a...a different home...Katrina, you'd be welcome too of course, if you don't want to continue staying with Snivellus..."

Some sort of explosion took place in the pit of my stomach.

"What—live with you?" I said, accidentally cracking my head on a bit of rock protruding from the ceiling.  
I reached my hand out and grabbed Kat as she stumbled as well. 

"- Leave the Dursleys?"  
"- Move in with my father?" Kat and I said at the same time.

"Of course, I thought you wouldn't want to," said Black quickly. "I understand, I just thought I'd—"

"Are you insane?" We said together, our voices easily as croaky as Black's. 

"- Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?"  
"- Of course I want to live with you. You're my father! Where do you live? When can I move in? Will Harry and I have to share a room? I've never shared a room before but I think I could get used to it!" 

Black turned right around to look at us, a quick grin crossing his face at Kat's rambling response; Snape's head was scraping the ceiling but Black didn't seem to care.

"You want to?" he said. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, I mean it!" I said as Kat nodded furiously in agreement.

Black's gaunt face broke into the first true smile I had seen upon it. The difference it made was startling, as though a person ten years younger were shining through the starved mask; for a moment, he was recognizable as the man who had laughed at my parents' wedding.

Sirius motioned for me to come closer as Kat fell behind.

"You know, don't you Harry..."

"Know what?"

"Who her father is."

"Yes...I found out last year..." I mumbled not sure what to say.

"Well I'm glad to see my godson has enough sense about him not to hold it over her head and staying friends with her, but, Harry...she's not ready to know the truth."

"Don't worry, Dumbledore already made me promised not to tell her..." I shifted uncomfortably, not enjoying keeping such a large secret from my best friend. Sirius patted me on the shoulder and glanced back at Kat.

"She may not be my daughter by blood, but she will always be my daughter nonetheless." I nodded as I watched him look back at my best friend.

I sped ahead as I sensed that Sirius wanted to talk to Kat on her own for a little bit.

Katrina's POV

"You have your mother's and grandfather's eyes..." I looked up at my father, not sure what to say. 

"Yeah, Sev told me I reminded him of her, said I had her smile too," I looked down and fumbled my hands into my robes as my cheeks reddened.

"He's not wrong...I'd say you inherited that, along with some of her other habits." He said as he raised an eyebrow at my twisted fingers.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You can ask me whatever you want, my little princess."

"I'm not a princess...I wish people would stop calling me that!"

"You are to me, and I'm glad to hear the name has stuck over the years," Sirius grinned down at me as I frowned back at him. 

"Yeah, I blame Fred and George Weasley for making it a trend. Once they started, it caught on like wildfire," I grumbled as I kicked a rock.

"Well I can't say I'm not pleased, little one. You are most definitely worthy of the title," he grinned again as he saw my red cheeks. "You didn't like the nickname even when you were little, though - I think it's about time you got used to it, don't you?"

"No!" I stated firmly, causing Sirius to chuckle again. 

"So, little princess, what was your question?" I had to pause for a moment as I refocused and ignored his emphasis on the unwanted nickname.

"Well, earlier, you said that my mother was also an Animagus. What was her form? Was it...was it a lioness?" I spoke softly as I asked the question I desperately wanted to know the answer to. It seemed the most obvious conclusion. 

"What makes you think that?" Sirius stopped walking for a second as he looked at me suspiciously. I shifted uncomfortably and looked at my hands.

"Out with it, little one - it may have been years, but a father never forgets how to spot when their child is holding something back."

"It's just, I-I found out earlier this year that I could transform into a lion cub so I-I figured that maybe it was something...something we...we shared..." I trailed off as I realized how pathetic I sounded. My father smiled sadly in understanding and pulled me into a quick hug before he began to walk down the tunnel again. 

"No, I'm sorry, sweetie. As I mentioned, our nicknames were created based off of our Animagus form - Eliana was my Aquila."

"As in, the Latin word meaning eagle?" My eyebrows scrunched up as I thought it over. I would never have guessed that; then again, I knew so little about her...

"Yes. I thought it was strange at first as well, but the more I thought about it, the more it fit. I'll never forget the day I met her. I loved her from the moment I saw her on the train our first year. She was breathtakingly beautiful, wise beyond her years, a free spirit, and the kindest woman ever - just like you, princess." I shook my head at this but didn't interrupt. I was hanging onto every word he said.

"I never believed in fate, but I gotta believe we were destined for each other. Did you know that Aquila is also the name for the eagle constellation? Everyone in my family is named after a star or constellation. It can't be a coincidence that she took on the form of the stars.

"Yes, I did! We learned all about Aquila in Astronomy! In Greek mythology it's known as the eagle that carried Zeus's/Jupiters lightning bolts. The Egyptians saw Aquila as the falcon of Horus. Other cultures associate it with Garuda - a half-eagle half-human deity. It's brightest star is Altair." I rambled off before clasping a hand over my mouth. I didn't want my father thinking I was a total nerd when he was one of the schools most infamous pranksters!"

But he just chuckled again and pulled me in closer for another hug.

"I'm glad to see you inherited you're mother's smarts and not my proclivity for risky adventures! (Poor Sirius, she totally has!) Yes...she was my Altair (if it's not clear, I'm using this to imply she was his brightest star - love of his life etc etc lol)...she always hated when I called her Taira when we were alone...but truer words have never been spoken. She was comparable to no one - except you, of course, my angelus paulo (little angel)." 

My throat clenched tight and Incould breath around the ginormous lump that had formed as our watery eyes stared back at one another.

Harry's POV

After what seemed like an age, we finally reached the end of the tunnel. Crookshanks darted up first; he had evidently pressed his paw to the knot on the trunk, because Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron clambered upward without any sound of savaging branches.

Black saw Snape up through the hole, then stood back for Kat, Hermione, and I to pass. At last, all of us were out.

The grounds were very dark now; the only light came from the distant windows of the castle. Without a word, we set off. Pettigrew was still wheezing and occasionally whimpering. My mind was buzzing. I was going to leave the Dursleys. I was going to live with Sirius Black, my parents' best friend...I felt dazed...What would happen when I told the Dursleys I was going to live with the convict they'd seen on television...!

"One wrong move, Peter," said Lupin threateningly ahead. His wand was still pointed sideways at Pettigrew's chest.

Silently we tramped through the grounds, the castle lights growing slowly larger. Snape was still drifting weirdly ahead of Black, his chin bumping on his chest. And then—

A cloud shifted. There were suddenly dim shadows on the ground. Our party was bathed in moonlight.

Snape collided with Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron, who had stopped abruptly. Black froze. He flung out an arm to make Kat and I stop.

I could see Lupin's silhouette. He had gone rigid. Then his limbs began to shake.

"Oh, my—" Hermione and Kat gasped. "He didn't take his potion tonight! He's not safe!"

"Run," Black whispered. "Run. Now."

But I couldn't run. Ron was chained to Pettigrew and Lupin. Kat and I leapt forward but Black caught us around the chest and threw us back.

"Leave it to me—RUN!"

There was a terrible snarling noise. Lupin's head was lengthening. So was his body. His shoulders were hunching. Hair was sprouting visibly on his face and hands, which were curling into clawed paws. Crookshanks's hair was on end again; he was backing away...but strangely enough, not out of fear. He seemed to be lookin at something else.

As the werewolf reared, snapping its long jaws, Sirius disappeared from my side. He had transformed. The enormous, bearlike dog bounded forward. As the werewolf wrenched itself free of the manacle binding it, the dog seized it about the neck and pulled it backward, away from Ron and Pettigrew. They were locked, jaw to jaw, claws ripping at each other—  
I stood, transfixed by the sight, too intent upon the battle to notice anything else. It was Hermione's scream that alerted me—

Pettigrew had dived for Lupin's dropped wand. Ron, unsteady on his bandaged leg, fell. There was a bang, a burst of light—and Ron lay motionless on the ground. Another bang—Crookshanks flew into the air and back to the earth in a heap.

"Expelliarmus!" (Clearly JK's favorite spell lmao) I yelled, pointing my own wand at Pettigrew; Lupin's wand flew high into the air and out of sight. "Stay where you are!" I shouted, running forward.

Too late. Pettigrew had transformed. I saw him wink at Kat and growled angrily at him as he watched his bald tail whip through the manacle on Ron's outstretched arm and heard a scurrying through the grass. Crookshanks hissed and darted off after him.

There was a howl and a rumbling growl; I turned to see the werewolf taking flight; it was galloping into the forest—

"Sirius, he's gone, Pettigrew transformed!" I yelled.

Black was bleeding; there were gashes across his muzzle and back, but at my words he scrambled up again, and in an instant, the sound of his paws faded to silence as he pounded away across the grounds.

Kat, Hermione, and I dashed over to Ron.

"What did he do to him?" Hermione whispered. Ron's eyes were only half-closed, his mouth hung open; he was definitely alive, we could hear him breathing, but he didn't seem to recognize us.

"I don't know..."

I looked desperately around. Black and Lupin both gone...they had no one but Snape for company, still hanging, unconscious, in midair.

"We'd better get them up to the castle and tell someone," I said, pushing my hair out of my eyes, trying to think straight. Come—"

But then, from beyond the range of their vision, we heard a yelping, a whining: a dog in pain...and a cats yowl.

"Sirius," I muttered, staring into the darkness.

I had a moment's indecision, but there was nothing we could do for Ron at the moment, and by the sound of it, Black was in trouble—

Kat and I set off at a run, Hermione right behind us. The yelping seemed to be coming from the ground near the edge of the lake. We pelted toward it, and we, running flat out, felt the cold without realizing what it must mean—

The yelping stopped abruptly. As we reached the lakeshore, we saw why—Sirius had turned back into a man. He was crouched on all fours, his hands over his head.

"Nooo," he moaned. "Noooo...please..."

And then we saw them. Dementors, at least a hundred of them, gliding in a black mass around the lake toward them. I spun around, the familiar, icy cold penetrating my insides, fog starting to obscure my vision; more were appearing out of the darkness on every side; they were encircling us...

"Hermione, Kat, think of something happy!" I yelled, raising my wand, blinking furiously to try and clear my vision, shaking my head to rid it of the faint screaming that had started inside it—

I'm going to live with my godfather and best friend. I'm leaving the Dursleys.

I forced myself to think of Black and Kat, and only them, and began to chant: "Expecto patronum! Expecto patronum!"

Black gave a shudder, rolled over, and lay motionless on the ground, pale as death.

He'll be all right. I'm going to go and live with him and Kat.

"Expecto patronum! Hermione, help us! Expecto patronum!" Kat and I managed to get from our silvery shields but Hermione was struggling.

"Expecto—" Hermione whispered, "expecto—expecto—"

But she couldn't do it. The dementors were closing in, barely ten feet from us. They formed a solid wall around us, and were getting closer...

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Kat and I yelled, trying to blot the screaming from our ears. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

I felt Hermione collapse next to me. Kat and I were alone...completely alone...

"Expecto—expecto patronum—"

I felt my knees hit the cold grass. Fog was clouding my eyes. With a huge effort, I fought to remember—Sirius was innocent—innocent—We'll be okay—I'm going to live with him and Kat...

"Expecto patronum!" I gasped.

By the feeble light of our formless Patronuses, I saw a dementor halt, very close to me. It couldn't walk through the cloud of silver mist Kat and I had conjured. A dead, slimy hand slid out from under the cloak. It made a gesture as though to sweep the Patronuses aside.

"No—no—" I gasped. "He's innocent... expecto—expecto patronum—"

I could feel them watching us, hear their rattling breath like an evil wind around me. The nearest dementor seemed to be considering me. Then it raised both its rotting hands—and lowered its hood.

Where there should have been eyes, there was only thin, gray scabbed skin, stretched blankly over empty sockets. But there was a mouth...a gaping, shapeless hole, sucking the air with the sound of a death rattle.

A paralyzing terror filled me so that I couldn't move or speak. My Patronus flickered and died, along with Kat's.

White fog was blinding me. I had to fight...expecto patronum...I couldn't see...and in the distance, I heard the familiar screaming...expecto patronum...I groped in the mist for Sirius, and Kat, and found their arms...they weren't going to take them...

But a pair of strong, clammy hands suddenly attached themselves around my neck. They were forcing my face upward...I could feel its breath...It was going to get rid of me first...I could feel its putrid breath...My mother was screaming in my ears...She was going to be the last thing I ever heard—

And then, through the fog that was drowning me, I thought I saw a silvery light growing brighter and brighter... I felt myself fall forward onto the grass... Facedown, too weak to move, sick and shaking, I opened my eyes. The dementor must have released me. The blinding light was illuminating the grass around us...The screaming had stopped, the cold was ebbing away...

Something was driving the dementors back...two forms were circling around us...They were leaving...The air was warm again...

With every ounce of strength I could muster, I raised my head a few inches and saw two animals amid the light, galloping away across the lake...Eyes blurred with sweat, I tried to make out what they were. They were as bright as unicorns...Fighting to stay conscious, I  watched them canter to a halt as they reached the opposite shore. For a moment, I saw, by their brightness, two figures welcoming them back...raising their hands to pat the creatures...both looked strangely familiar...but it couldn't be...(he sees his mom and dad, Kat sees her mom and Sirius)

I didn't understand. I couldn't think anymore. I felt the last of my strength leave me, and my head hit the ground as I fainted.

********************************************

In-Line Comments

\- Thought that sounded sweet even if it might not make complete sense - deal with it - it made sense in my head so I'm going with it. Lol  
\- I never had any doubt that Snape was good - but after the third movie, how could anyone deny it? His first instinct was to protect them from the werewolf! Come on now people! Shouldn't have taken 7 yrs to figure it out! Obviously there's a varieties of other examples.


	59. Hermione and Kat’s Secret

(Just wanted to say how much I love you all! You're comments make me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside to know that other people are enjoying the story as much as I'm enjoying finally writing it down! Not to mention y'all crack me up and I end up looking crazy as I laugh at my computer/phone for no reason! So here ya go, the second to last chapter! OMG

\- before that, a few last comments: no I did not read the idea for Aquila from another story :( I was hoping that was something that hadn't been done yet lol but I waited so long to start writing this that by now pretty much everything is out there haha as I mentioned in the beginning of book one - if there's anything that seems similar to other stories whether I've read em or not, it's purely coincidence and not purposeful plagiarism! but yeah. Secondly awww I love everyone who is thinking that it's Kat's mum. Not gonna ruin it yet but you'll find out like - now...)

Katrina's POV

"Shocking business...shocking... miracle none of them died...never heard the like...by thunder, it was lucky you were there, Snape..."

"Thank you, Minister."

"Order of Merlin, Second Class, I'd say. First Class, if I can wangle it!"

"Thank you very much indeed, Minister."

"Nasty cut you've got there...Black's work, I suppose?"

"As a matter of fact, it was Katrina, Minister...but it wasn't her fault."

"No!"

"Black had bewitched them, I saw it immediately. A Confundus Charm, to judge by their behavior. They seemed to think there was a possibility he was innocent. They weren't responsible for their actions. On the other hand, their interference might have permitted Black to escape...They obviously thought they were going to catch Black single-handed. Potter, Weasley, and Granger have got away with a great deal before now...I'm afraid it's given them a rather high opinion of themselves...and of course Potter has always been allowed an extraordinary amount of license by the headmaster—"

"Ah, well, Snape...Harry Potter, you know...we've all got a bit of a blind spot where he's concerned."

"And yet—is it good for him to be given so much special treatment? Personally, I try and treat him like any other student. And any other student would be suspended—at the very least—for leading his friends into such danger. Consider, Minister—against all school rules—after all the precautions put in place for his protection—out-of-bounds, at night, consorting with a werewolf and a murderer—and I have reason to believe he has been visiting Hogsmeade illegally too—"

"Well, well...we shall see, Snape, we shall see...The boy has undoubtedly been foolish..."

I lay listening with my eyes tight shut. Despite feeling very groggy, I still noticed that once again, Sev was putting all the blame on my friends and leaving me out of it. How infuriatingly hypocritical. The words I was hearing seemed to be traveling very slowly from my ears to my brain, so that it was difficult to understand... 

My limbs felt like lead; my eyelids too heavy to lift...I wanted to lie here, on this comfortable bed, forever...

"What amazes me most is the behavior of the dementors...you've really no idea what made them retreat, Snape?"

"No, Minister...by the time I had come 'round they were heading back to their positions at the entrances..."

"Extraordinary. And yet Black, Harry, Katrina, and the other girl—"

"All unconscious by the time I reached them. I bound and gagged Black, naturally, conjured stretchers, and brought them all straight back to the castle."

There was a pause. My brain seemed to be moving a little faster, and as it did, a gnawing sensation grew in the pit of my stomach...

I opened my eyes.

I was lying in the dark hospital wing. At the very end of the ward, I could make out Madam Pomfrey with her back to me, bending over a bed. I squinted. Ron's red hair was visible beneath Madam Pomfrey's arm.

I moved my head over on the pillow. In the bed to my right lay Hermione and Harry was on my left. Both of them were awake. Hermione's looked petrified, and when she saw that I was awake, pressed a finger to her lips, then pointed to the hospital wing door. It was ajar, and the voices of Cornelius Fudge and my godfather were coming through it from the corridor outside.

Madam Pomfrey now came walking briskly up the dark ward to my bed. I turned to look at her. She was carrying the largest block of chocolate I had ever seen in my life. It looked like a small boulder.

"Ah, you're awake!" she said briskly. She placed the chocolate on my bedside table and began breaking it apart with a small hammer.

"How's Ron?" said Harry, Hermione, and I together.

"He'll live," said Madam Pomfrey grimly. "As for you three...you'll be staying here until I'm satisfied you're—Potter, Katrina, what do you think you're doing?"

Harry and I were sitting up and getting out of bed.

"We need to see the headmaster," we said.

"Potter, Katrina, dear," said Madam Pomfrey soothingly, "it's all right. They've got Black. He's locked away upstairs. The dementors will be performing the kiss any moment now—"

"WHAT?"

I jumped up out of bed; Hermione and Harry had done the same. But our shouts had been heard in the corridor outside; next second, Cornelius Fudge and Snape had entered the ward.

"Harry, Katrina, what's this?" said Fudge, looking agitated. "You should be in bed—have they had any chocolate?" he asked Madam Pomfrey anxiously.

"Minister, listen!" Harry and I said. "Sirius Black's innocent! Peter Pettigrew faked his own death! We saw him tonight! You can't let the dementors do that thing to Sirius, he's—"

But Fudge was shaking his head with a small smile on his face.

"Harry, Kat, dear, you're very confused, you've been through a dreadful ordeal, lie back down, now, we've got everything under control..."

"YOU HAVEN'T!" we yelled. "YOU'VE GOT THE WRONG MAN!"

"Minister, listen, please," Hermione said; she had hurried to our side and was gazing imploringly into Fudge's face. "I saw him too. It was Ron's rat, he's an Animagus, Pettigrew, I mean, and—"

"You see, Minister?" said Snape. "Confunded, all three of them...Black's done a very good job on them..."

"WE'RE NOT CONFUNDED!" Harry roared.

"Minister! Professor!" said Madam Pomfrey angrily. "I must insist that you leave. These children are my patients, and they should not be distressed!"

"We're not distressed, we're trying to tell you what happened!" Harry said furiously. "If they'd just listen—"

But Madam Pomfrey suddenly stuffed a large chunk of chocolate into Harry's mouth; he choked, and she seized the opportunity to force him back onto the bed.

"Now, please, Minister, these children need care. Please leave—"

The door opened again. It was grandfather. I swallowed my mouthful of chocolate with great difficulty and got up again.

"Professor Dumbledore, Sirius Black—"

"For heaven's sake!" said Madam Pomfrey hysterically. "Is this a hospital wing or not? Headmaster, I must insist—"

"My apologies, Poppy, but I need a word with Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, and Miss Katrina," said Dumbledore calmly. "I have just been talking to Sirius Black—"

"I suppose he's told you the same fairy tale he's planted in Potter's mind?" spat Snape. "Something about a rat, and Pettigrew being alive—"

"That, indeed, is Black's story," said Dumbledore, surveying Snape closely through his half-moon spectacles.

"And does my evidence count for nothing?" snarled Snape. "Peter Pettigrew was not in the Shrieking Shack, nor did I see any sign of him on the grounds."

"That was because you were knocked out, Professor!" said Hermione earnestly. "You didn't arrive in time to hear—"

"Miss Granger, HOLD YOUR TONGUE!" I felt guilty as I remembered what I had done, but there were more important things to worry about right now. Like the fact that my father was about to get his soul sucked out! Call me crazy, but I think that should be on the top of the priority list...

"Now, Snape," said Fudge, startled, "the young lady is disturbed in her mind, we must make allowances—"

"I would like to speak to Harry, Hermione, and Katrina alone," said Dumbledore abruptly. "Cornelius, Severus, Poppy—please leave us."

"Headmaster!" sputtered Madam Pomfrey "They need treatment, they need rest—"

"This cannot wait," said Dumbledore. "I must insist."

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips and strode away into her office at the end of the ward, slamming the door behind her. Fudge consulted the large gold pocket watch dangling from his waistcoat.

"The dementors should have arrived by now," he said. "I'll go and meet them. Dumbledore, I'll see you upstairs."

He crossed to the door and held it open for Snape, but Snape hadn't moved.

"You surely don't believe a word of Black's story?" Snape whispered, his eyes fixed on Dumbledore's face.

"I wish to speak to Harry, Hermione, and Katrina alone," Dumbledore repeated.

Snape took a step toward Dumbledore.

"Sirius Black showed he was capable of murder at the age of sixteen," he breathed. "You haven't forgotten that, Headmaster? You haven't forgotten that he once tried to kill me?"

"My memory is as good as it ever was, Severus," said Dumbledore quietly.

Sev turned on his heel and marched through the door Fudge was still holding. It closed behind them, and Dumbledore turned to the three of us. We burst into speech at the same time.

"Professor, Black's telling the truth—we saw Pettigrew—"

"—he escaped when Professor Lupin turned into a werewolf—"

"—he's a rat—"

"—Pettigrew's front paw, I mean, finger, he cut it off—"

"—Pettigrew attacked Ron, it wasn't Sirius—"

But Dumbledore held up his hand to stem the flood of explanations.

"It is your turn to listen, and I beg you will not interrupt me, because there is very little time," he said quietly. "There is not a shred of proof to support Black's story, except your word—and the word of three thirteen-year-old wizards will not convince anybody. A street full of eyewitnesses swore they saw Sirius murder Pettigrew. I myself gave evidence to the Ministry that Sirius had been Secret-Keeper."

"Professor Lupin can tell you—" Harry said, unable to stop himself.

"Professor Lupin is currently deep in the forest, unable to tell anyone anything. By the time he is human again, it will be too late, Sirius will be worse than dead. I might add that werewolves are so mistrusted by most of our kind that his support will count for very little—and the fact that he and Sirius are old friends—"

"But—"

"Listen to me, Harry. It is too late, you understand me? You must see that Professor Snape's version of events is far more convincing than yours."

"He hates Sirius," Hermione said desperately. "All because of some stupid trick Sirius played on him—"

"Sirius has not acted like an innocent man. The attack on the Fat Lady—entering Gryffindor Tower with a knife—without Pettigrew, alive or dead, we have no chance of overturning Sirius's sentence."

"But you believe us?" I asked my grandfather hesitantly.

"Yes, I do," said Dumbledore quietly. "But I have no power to make other men see the truth, or to overrule the Minister of Magic...

"What we need," said Dumbledore slowly, and his light blue eyes moved from Harry to Hermione and I, "is more time."

"But—" Hermione began. And then her eyes became very round as she looked at me. "OH!"

"Now, pay attention," said Dumbledore, speaking very low, and very clearly. "Sirius is locked in Professor Flitwick's office on the seventh floor. Thirteenth window from the right of the West Tower. If all goes well, you will be able to save more than one innocent life tonight. But remember this, all three of you: you must not be seen. Miss Granger, Katrina, dear, you know the law—you know what is at stake...You—must—not—be—seen."

I could tell Harry didn't have a clue what was going on. Grandfather turned on his heel and looked back as he reached the door.

"I am going to lock you in. It is—" he consulted his watch, "five minutes to midnight. Three turns should do it. Good luck."

"Good luck?" Harry repeated as the door closed behind Dumbledore. "Three turns? What's he talking about? What are we supposed to do?"

But Hermione and I were busy fumbling with the necks of our robes, pulling from beneath them two very long, very fine gold chains.

"Harry, come here," we said urgently. "Quick!"

Harry moved toward us, completely bewildered. 

"Here—"

I let Hermione throw her chain around his neck too as I looked at her.

"Ready?" I said breathlessly.

"What are we doing?" Harry said, completely lost.

Hermione and I turned our hourglasses over three times.

The dark ward dissolved. I felt the now familiar sensation that I was flying very fast, backward. A blur of colors and shapes rushed past me, my ears were pounding...

And then I felt solid ground beneath my feet, and everything came into focus again—

I was standing next to Hermione and Harry in the deserted entrance hall and a stream of golden sunlight was falling across the paved floor from the open front doors. 

"Hermione, what—?"

"In here!" Hermione and I seized Harry's arms and dragged him across the hall to the door of a broom closet; we opened it, pushed him inside among the buckets and mops, then slammed the door behind us

"What—how—Hermione, Kat, what happened?"

"We've gone back in time," Hermione whispered, lifting the chain off Harry's neck in the darkness. "Three hours back..."

I saw Harry find his leg and give it a very hard pinch. I couldn't help but chuckle a little at this.

"But—"

"Shh! Listen! Someone's coming! I think—I think it might be us!" I told the two of them as I bent my ear toward the cupboard door. 

"Footsteps across the hall...yes, I think it's us going down to Hagrid's!"

"Are you telling me," Harry whispered, "that we're here in this cupboard and we're out there too?"

"Yes," said Hermione, her ear now alongside mine. "I'm sure it's us. It doesn't sound like more than four people...and we're walking slowly because we're under the Invisibility Cloak—"

She broke off, still listening intently.

"We've gone down the front steps..."

Hermione and I sat down on an upturned bucket, looking desperately anxious, but I knew Harry would want a few questions answered. I didn't have the energy at the moment so I decided to leave it up to Hermione to explain.

"Where did you get those hourglass things?"

"They're called Time-Turners," Hermione whispered, "and we got them from Professor McGonagall on our first day back. We've been using them all year to get to all our lessons. Professor McGonagall made us swear we wouldn't tell anyone. She had to write all sorts of letters to the Ministry of Magic so we could have them. She had to tell them that we were model students, and that we'd never, ever use them for anything except our studies... We've been turning then back so we could do hours over again, that's how We've been doing several lessons at once, see? But..." I finally decided to chime in.

"What I don't understand is what Dumbledore wants us to do. Why did he tell us to go back three hours? How's that going to help my father?"

Harry stared at our shadowy faces.

"There must be something that happened around now he wants us to change," I said slowly. "What happened?"

We were walking down to Hagrid's three hours ago..." Harry started to say.

"This is three hours ago, and we are walking down to Hagrid's," said Hermione. "We just heard ourselves leaving..."

Harry frowned as his face screwed up in concentration. 

"Dumbledore just said—just said we could save more than one innocent life..." And then it hit me. "Hermione, Harry, we're going to save Buckbeak!"

"But—how will that help Sirius?"

"Dumbledore said—he just told us where the window is—the window of Flitwick's office! Where they've got Sirius locked up! We've got to fly Buckbeak up to the window and rescue my father. Sirius can escape on Buckbeak—they can escape together!"

From what I could see of Hermione's and Harry's faces, they looked terrified. Well Hermione was, Harry just looked completely bewildered and out of sorts - it was adorable!

"If we manage that without being seen, it'll be a miracle!" He said.

"Well, we've got to try, haven't we?" I replied as I leaned against the door again. 

"Doesn't sound like anyone's there... Come on, let's go..."

I pushed open the closet door. The entrance hall was deserted. As quietly and quickly as we could, we darted out of the closet and down the stone steps. The shadows were already lengthening, the tops of the trees in the Forbidden Forest gilded once more with gold.

"If anyone's looking out of the window—" Hermione squeaked, looking up at the castle behind us.

"We'll run for it," I answered determinedly. "Straight into the forest, all right? We'll have to hide behind a tree or something and keep a lookout—"

"Okay, but we'll go around by the greenhouses!" said Hermione breathlessly. "We need to keep out of sight of Hagrid's front door, or we'll see us! We must be nearly at Hagrid's by now!"

We tore across the vegetable gardens to the greenhouses, paused for a moment, then set off again, fast as we could, skirting around the Whomping Willow, tearing toward the shelter of the forest...

Safe in the shadows of the trees, I stopped to wait for Harry and Hermione who arrived beside me, panting.

"Right," she gasped. "We need to sneak over to Hagrid's...Keep out of sight!"

We made our way silently through the trees, keeping to the very edge of the forest. Then, as we glimpsed the front of Hagrid's house, we heard a knock upon his door. We moved quickly behind a wide oak trunk and peered out from either side. Hagrid had appeared in his doorway, shaking and white, looking around to see who had knocked. And I heard Harry's voice.

"It's us. We're wearing the Invisibility Cloak. Let us in and we can take it off."

"Yeh shouldn've come!" Hagrid whispered. He stood back, then shut the door quickly.

"This is the weirdest thing we've ever done," Harry said fervently.

"Let's move along a bit," Hermione whispered. "We need to get nearer to Buckbeak!"

We crept through the trees until we saw the nervous hippogriff, tethered to the fence around Hagrid's pumpkin patch.

"Now?" Harry whispered.

"No!" said Hermione and I at once. "If we steal him now, those Committee people will think Hagrid set him free! We've got to wait until they've seen he's tied outside!"

"That's going to give us about sixty seconds," said Harry. This was starting to seem impossible.

At that moment, there was a crash of breaking china from inside Hagrid's cabin.

"That's Hagrid breaking the milk jug," Hermione whispered. "I'm going to find Scabbers in a moment—"

Sure enough, a few minutes later, they heard Hermione's shriek of surprise.

"Hermione," said Harry suddenly, "what if we—we just run in there and grab Pettigrew—"

"No!" said Hermione in a terrified whisper. I hissed under my breath as I held myself back, wanting to do exactly that.

"Don't you understand? We're breaking one of the most important wizarding laws! Nobody's supposed to change time, nobody! You heard Dumbledore, if we're seen—"

"We'd only be seen by ourselves and Hagrid!"

"Harry, what do you think you'd do if you saw yourself bursting into Hagrid's house?" said Hermione.

"I'd—I'd think I'd gone mad," said Harry, "or I'd think there was some Dark Magic going on—"

"Exactly! You wouldn't understand, you might even attack yourself! Don't you see? Professor McGonagall told Kat and I what awful things have happened when wizards have meddled with time...Loads of them ended up killing their past or future selves by mistake!"

"Okay!" said Harry. "It was just an idea, I just thought—"

But Hermione nudged him and pointed toward the castle. I looked over to see Dumbledore, Fudge, the old Committee member, and Macnair the executioner were coming down the steps.

"We're about to come out!" Hermione breathed.

And sure enough, moments later, Hagrid's back door opened, and we  saw ourselves walking out of it with Hagrid. 

"It's okay, Beaky, it's okay...," Hagrid said to Buckbeak. Then he turned to Harry, Ron, Hermione and I. "Go on. Get goin'."

"Hagrid, we can't—"

"We'll tell them what really happened—"

"They can't kill him—"

"Go! It's bad enough without you lot in trouble an' all!"

I watched the Hermione in the pumpkin patch throw the Invisibility Cloak over the four of us.

"Go quick. Don' listen..." suddenly, I heard a rustle behind me and turned to see Crookshanks beady yellow eyes staring down at me. Yellow? Hadn't they been blue just a few hours ago? 

I heard the knock on Hagrid's front door but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the Cat's. I watched his eyes flicker back and forth from me to Past Ron; who was up the hill and struggling with Scabbers. My eyes turned to slits as I glared at the slimy rat who had caused so much pain and destruction. I longed to leap over there and pounce on him! As I turned my eyes back to Crookshanks, I felt a weird sensation ripple throughout my body and then I closed my eyes as I pitched forward.

I held my breath as I waited for my body to hit the ground, but it never came. I slowly opened one eye, and then the next...only to find that the world seemed different. All the colors seemed fainter but I found that my night vision had been intensified. Whereas before I could only make out Ron's moving form, I now was able to laser in on Scabbers wriggling body. 

Before I had time to think about what I was doing, I had darted out from behind the trees and chased after the rat and pounced on him. But he was small and squirmed so much it was hard to get a grasp. As I stared down at the ginger paws that danced struggled to grasp Scabbers in their claws, I finally realized what must have happened. By some bizarre, crazy, twist of fate, I had turned into Crookshanks. My blue cat eyes widened as I thought back over the night's events and came to an epiphany. The eyes...the wink...but how had he known? I was distracted as the sorry excuse for vermin escaped and dashed off into the dark. I darted after him until a hard body slammed into me and I was knocked away. 

"Gotcha, get off, you stinking cat -" it was Ron. Then Hermione was speaking.

"Ron-come on-back under the cloak-" she panted. I heard more rustling from behind me and watched as the big black dog charged at the Past versions of my friends and I. I did my best to blend into my surroundings as I tried not to let myself see myself - what a silly statement, not sure if it even made sense, but the point was, I knew I had to do my best not to make my Past Self go crazy - I guess it helped that I didn't look like me...a blessing and a curse...

I slithered forward as smoothly as a snake when it was time, touched the pad of my paw to the knot of the tree, then slunk inside. I led my friends forward down the tunnel and towards the room I now knew was there. I jumped up and out of the hole and made sure that they were still following before pressing on. We finally arrived and I slipped first through the only open door. 

I perched myself comfortably on the bed; out of the way of Ron, and settled myself in to watch as events unfolded before my eyes. My plan was to sit quietly and not interfere since I still wasn't exactly sure what the heck had gone wrong, but I couldn't help myself when I saw Harry attack my innocent father and my Past Self joining in. I launched myself off the bed only to find myself flying through the air as Past Harry sent a strong kick to my side. I mewled quietly as I felt a few of my ribs break, but adrenaline was still pumping through the feline form and I hardly noticed when I saw that Past Harry and I had our wands pointed at Sirius as my friend accused him. I rushed over and landed on my father's chest, trying not to dig my claws into his skin. He stared into my eyes and to my surprise, they lit up in recognition. Could it be possible he knew it was really me? I turned around and stared Harry down, hoping that some part of him would understand the thoughts I was sending towards him. But of course that was silly. Nevertheless, something must have been translated because neither Past or I made a move to kill Sirius. 

Then Lupin was there and taking possession of my friend's wands while I stayed watchful from my spot on my father's chest; which was surprisingly warm. Unfortunately, I fell to the floor with a painful thud as Lupin helped my father to stand. I crawled back to the bed, hopped back up, then began to lick my wounds on instinct, not that it did much good. 

I sat there quietly flicking my tail back and forth as I observed Past Hermione revealing Lupin's werewolf secret. Then Harry was shouting again and father was sinking down onto the bed. I made my way over sat on his lap, purring. I mrrted in laughter as I saw Ron freak out and edge away from us. I purred louder as my father began to stroke my fur between his hands. His movements were rhythmic and relaxing - I was about to close my eyes and fall asleep when I saw Scabbers emerge from Ron's pocket. I stood up on Sirius's leg and hissed angrily. He patted my head reassuringly but he was glaring at the rat with even more hatred than I was. I tried to pounce but my father held me tight in his arms. I looked at him but he just raised one eyebrow and pried me off of him and set me on the bed - then lunged at Scabbers himself. I shook my cat head back and forth - what a hypocrite. It was fine for him to attack the filthy creature but when I wanted to, it wasn't? I was about to try and go after the rat again when I noticed my Past Self glancing back and forth from me to my father and decided it was best to stay put. I was mental enough as it was without the additional potential repercussions of time travel!

The next thing I knew, I was being picked up by myself - if that made any sense at all? Maybe I was going crazy. Maybe this was all some crazy dream and I would wake up only to discover that I'd fallen asleep while studying for the end of year exams. 

I watched Scabbers' every move from where I was perched in my arms - ok, I'm definitely going crazy. I tried not to think of my doomed sanity as I listened to Lupin tell his story; all the while, my eyes never leaving the rat, not even when the door opened on it's own and my godfather walked into the room. But I was distracted eventually when Past Sev started taunting Lupin once more and threatening to send him and my father to Azkaban. I couldn't bear the thought of losing Sirius again...not after I'd just found out the truth...

I finally managed to catch myself unawares and escape my tight grasp - yup, no doubt about it, I'm definitely insane - just as Sev sent ropes to bind Lupin. I yowled in triumph and pain as I landed on the floor and streaked off towards Sev and Lupin. Then I jumped back into my father's arms as my godfather turned back towards Sirius with his wand raised. 

I hissed as Sev shouted at Hermione and our eyes met. I stared Snape down. Then Harry started yelling again but I continued to stare at my godfather, begging him not to hurt my father. As Harry had done earlier, he paused and looked like he was about to lower his wand. Then he caught sight of Sirius and my Past Self sent him flying across the room. I winced as I watched him slam into the wall for the second time that night. 

I went back to my father and was lifted back into his tender arms as he started to explain how he'd known Scabbers was Peter. 

Then Harry was back to yelling at my father again and I rolled my cat eyes as I waited for the whole truth to come out and for my friend to accept Sirius's innocence. Father set me back down on the bed gently as he picked up Sev's wand and moved to join Lupin. 

Then Wormtail was in the room and begging for Lupin and Sirius not to kill him. I hacked up a fur ball and hissed as I saw him wink at me again - the creep! 

Then we were headed out and I jumped up and led our group out, my tail tall and proud behind me as I padded down the tunnel. As we neared the opening I slowed down, dreading what happened next. 

I kept close to Ron, Lupin, and Pettigrew as they exited the Willow. I was determined not to let him escape this time! I ignored Lupin's transformation and kept my eyes on Pettirgrew but I couldn't help but look towards my father when I heard him whimper as Lupin's teeth bit into him. 

Though only for a few seconds, my inattentiveness had been just enough time for Peter to grab Lupin's discarded wand and transform. I howled in fury and chased off after him into the darkness. I followed him into the Forbidden Forest but even with my night vision, it was too hard to keep track of him and he disappeared. I cried out my frustration into the night and was joined by the cries of a big black dog and an angry werewolf.

A rustling from behind made me twist around - jarring my poor ribs at the same time - as I Harry's voice.

"Where are you? Dad, come on—"

The next thing I knew I was flying forward and crashing into the tree in front of me. I groaned in pain and opened my eyes slowly to find myself staring into a pair of yellow ones. I blinked in confusion as Crookshanks licked my face before turning and disappearing into the shadows. I slowly stood up on shaky legs and made my way over to the bush where I'd heard the voice.

Harry's POV

I was just about to go up to Buckbeak and bow when I realized that Kat was nowhere to be seen. Where the bloody hell had she gone! I turned back to Hermione but she waved at me frantically. There was no time to wonder where my best friend had gone. 

I managed to lead Buckbeak away in time and Hermione and I ducked into the forest. We sat there and waited; watching Buckbeak enjoy freedom as the minutes ticked by. I told Hermione about what I thought I'd seen before passing out but I could tell she wasn't sure whether I'd gone crazy or whether to believe me. I wasn't sure either - but I wished Kat were here. She would have known what to say! She always did!

********************************************

The lake was coming nearer and nearer, but there was no sign of anybody. On the opposite bank, I could see tiny glimmers of silver—Kat and my own attempts at a Patronus—

There was a bush at the very edge of the water. I threw myself behind it, peering desperately through the leaves. On the opposite bank, the glimmers of silver were suddenly extinguished. A terrified excitement shot through me...any moment now—

"Come on!" I muttered, staring about. "Where are you? Dad, come on—"

There was a rustling from behind me and I held my breath as a figure stepped out. 

"Harry?"

"Katrina? Where in Merlin's name have you been!" I stared at her as she slowly came to stand by me and looked out across the lake. I could see she was just as anxious as I was as she realized what was about to happen. 

"I'll explain later," she whispered as we both waited impatiently to see who would come to rescue the Past Us.

But no one came. I raised my head to look at the circle of dementors across the lake. One of them was lowering its hood. It was time for the rescuers to appear—but no one was coming to help this time—

And then it hit me—I looked at Kat as we came to the same conclusion together. We hadn't seen our parents, we had seen ourselves—

We flung out from behind the bush and pulled out our wands. 

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" we yelled at the same time. 

And out of the end of our wands burst, not shapeless clouds of mist, but two blinding, dazzling, silver animals. I screwed up my eyes, trying to see what they were. They looked like horses. They were galloping silently away from us, across the black surface of the lake. 

I saw them lower their heads and charge at the swarming dementors...Now galloping around and around the black shapes on the ground, and the dementors were falling back, scattering, retreating into the darkness...They were gone.

The Patronuss turned. They were cantering back toward Kat and I across the still surface of the water. They weren't horses...nor were they unicorns, either. One was a stag...the other a proud lioness. Both shining brightly as the moon above...they were coming back to us...

 

They stopped on the bank. Their hooves made no mark on the soft ground as they stared at Kat and I with their large, silver eyes. Slowly, they bowed their heads. And I realized...

"Prongs," I whispered.

But as my trembling fingertips stretched toward the creature, it vanished along with the lioness. 

I stood there, hand still outstretched. Then, with a great leap of my heart, I heard hooves behind me—I whirled around and saw Hermione dashing toward us, dragging Buckbeak behind her.

"What did you do? she said fiercely. "You said you were only going to keep a lookout! Kat! Where did you come from? Where were you?"

"We just saved all our lives...," I said. "Get behind here—behind this bush—We'll explain."

Hermione listened to what had just happened with her mouth open yet again.

"Did anyone see you?"

"Yes, haven't you been listening? I saw me but I thought I was my dad! It's okay!"

"Harry, I can't believe it...You and Kat conjured up Patronuses that drove away all those dementors! That's very, very advanced magic..."

"I knew I could do it this time," I said, "because I'd already done it...Does that make sense?" 

"Yes," Kat said immediately. She then finally told us about what had happened to her and we stared at her in shock. It was so unbelievable...and yet...it explained so much, especially after she transformed into a lion cub in front of us. Even Hermione didn't have anything to say after that. 

"Harry, look at Sev!"

Together we peered around the bush at the other bank. Snape had regained consciousness. He was conjuring stretchers and lifting the limp forms of the Past Harry, Hermione, Kat, and Black onto them. A fifth stretcher, no doubt bearing Ron, was already floating at his side. Then, wand held out in front of him, he moved them away toward the castle.

"Right, it's nearly time," said Hermione tensely, looking at her watch. "We've got about forty-five minutes until Dumbledore locks the door to the hospital wing. We've got to rescue Sirius and get back into the ward before anybody realizes we're missing..."

Katrina's POV

We waited, watching the moving clouds reflected in the lake, while the bush next to us whispered in the breeze. Buckbeak, bored, was ferreting for worms again.

"D' you reckon he's up there yet?" said Harry, checking his watch. He looked up at the castle and began counting the windows to the right of the West Tower.

"Look!" Hermione whispered. "Who's that? Someone's coming back out of the castle!"

I stared through the darkness. The man was hurrying across the grounds, toward one of the entrances. Something shiny glinted in his belt.

"Macnair!" said Harry. "The executioner! He's gone to get the dementors! This is it, Kat, Hermione—"

I put my hands on Buckbeak's back and Harry gave me a leg up then helped Hermione before climbing on himself. 

"Ready?" I whispered to Hermione. "You'd better hold on to Harry," I told her, she looked like she was about to pass out from fear.

I nudged Buckbeak's sides with my heels.

Buckbeak soared straight into the dark air. I gripped his flanks with my knees, feeling the great wings rising powerfully beneath us. Hermione was holding Harry very tight around the waist; I chuckled as I heard her muttering, "Oh, no—I don't like this—oh, I really don't like this—"

I urged Buckbeak forward. We were gliding quietly toward the upper floors of the castle...I pulled hard on the left-hand side of the rope, and Buckbeak turned. I was trying to count the windows flashing past—

"Whoa!" I said, pulling backward as hard as I could.

Buckbeak slowed down and we found ourselves at a stop, unless you counted the fact that we kept rising up and down several feet as the hippogriff beat his wings to remain airborne.

"He's there!" I said, spotting Sirius as we rose up beside the window. I reached out, and as Buckbeak's wings fell, was able to tap sharply on the glass.

My father looked up. I saw his jaw drop. He leapt from his chair, hurried to the window and tried to open it, but it was locked.

"Stand back!" I called to him, and I  took out my wand.

"Alohomora!"

The window sprang open.

"How—how—?" said Sirius weakly, staring at the hippogriff. I watched him pause and stare more intensely at the creature but we didn't have time for this!

"Get on—there's not much time," I told him, gripping Buckbeak firmly on either side of his sleek neck to hold him steady. "You've got to get out of here—the dementors are coming—Macnair's gone to get them."

Sirius placed a hand on either side of the window frame and heaved his head and shoulders out of it. It was very lucky he was so thin. In seconds, he had managed to fling one leg over Buckbeak's back and pull himself onto the hippogriff behind Hermione.

"Okay, Buckbeak, up!" I said, shaking the rope. "Up to the tower—come on!"

The hippogriff gave one sweep of its mighty wings and we were soaring upward again, high as the top of the West Tower. Buckbeak landed with a clatter on the battlements, and Harry, Hermione, and I slid off him at once.

"Sirius, you'd better go, quick," Harry panted. "They'll reach Flitwick's office any moment, they'll find out you're gone."

Buckbeak pawed the ground, tossing his sharp head.

"What happened to the other boy? Ron?" croaked Sirius.

"He's going to be okay. He's still out of it, but Madam Pomfrey says she'll be able to make him better. Quick—go—"

But my father was still staring down at Harry and I.

"How can I ever thank—"

"GO!" We shouted together. I turned and as I did so - I met Buckbeak's eyes. And I knew once and for all that I had moved into the looney bin - for I found myself staring into twinkling blue eyes again. Yet - it seemed different than with Crookshanks. I stepped closer and touched Buckbeak's face. How had I never noticed how blue his eyes were? I'd spent all of my time with Hagrid, Hermione, Buckbeak, and Drake this year and I'd failed to notice this detail!

"Mom?" I whispered as I touched his face. But this was ridiculous, there was no way it was her. 1) she was dead and 2) Buckbeak was the wrong gender! I slapped my forehead to knock some sense back into. I was seriously beginning to worry that I was going looney like the others Minnie had listed when she first gave us our time turners. 

I stepped back as Sirius wheeled Buckbeak around, facing the open sky.

"We'll see each other again," he said. "You are—truly your father's son, Harry...princess, thank you for your help," I blinked at him as his eyes twinkled mischievously. 

"How did you know it was me and not the real Crookshanks?" 

"The number of times I saw Eliana use her time turner to go to her classes...I got used to her being in more than once place at a time, and I saw her transformations countless times."

"But what happened! How did I even do that?"

"There's no time, Kat! Sirius you have to leave now!" Hermione squeaked apologetically as she glanced down at her watch.

"My angelous paulo - I love you...never forget that!"

He squeezed Buckbeak's sides with his heels. We jumped back as the enormous wings rose once more...The hippogriff took off into the air...He and his rider became smaller and smaller as gazed after them...then a cloud drifted across the moon...They were gone.

"I love you too, papa..." I whispered as I watched my father vanish into the night.

********************************************

In-Line Comments

\- Don't worry all points of contention/Kat's cat experience will be explained in the last and final chapter - but it's going to have to wait till later in the day cuz it's 2:16am and I can barely keep my eyes open so if I missed any grammar/spelling mistakes I do apologize! As always, I hope you enjoyed and feel free to share, like, add etc and comment your thoughts on this newest chapter! Once again I sorry if it's a little off - I'm 3/4 asleep right now!


	60. Owl Post Again

(Omg can't believe I'm finally done with book 3. I stand here before you all waiting for you to bow down and kiss the feet of thy speedy-update Queen! Finished the entire last half of the book in a manner of like a week! Don't quote me on that but point is - there better be some major bowing and boot kissing right about now! Jk - but I still rule. Make sure to read the end notes for a further explanation of some of the things that; as audience members who know the truth about Kat, you are privy to. Sorry if any of you didn't like the whole Kat/Crookshanks twist lol no feedback yet so not sure how to interpret it but I liked it and that's all that matters :p - hope you enjoy this last chapter!)

Katrina's POV

"Harry! Katrina!"

Hermione was tugging at my sleeve, staring at her watch. "We've got exactly ten minutes to get back down to the hospital wing without anybody seeing us—before Dumbledore locks the door—"

"Okay," I said, wrenching my gaze from the sky and trying not to focus on my heart breaking. "let's go..." 

We slipped through the doorway behind us and down a tightly spiraling stone staircase. As we reached the bottom of it, we heard voices. We flattened ourselves against the wall and listened. It sounded like Fudge and Sev. They were walking quickly along the corridor at the foot of the staircase.

"...only hope Dumbledore's not going to make difficulties," Snape was saying. "The Kiss will be performed immediately?"

"As soon as Macnair returns with the dementors. This whole Black affair has been highly embarrassing. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to informing the Daily Prophet that we've got him at last...I daresay they'll want to interview you, Snape...and once young Harry's back in his right mind, I expect he'll want to tell the Prophet exactly how you saved him..."

I heard Harry clench his teeth as we caught a glimpse of Sev's smirk as he and Fudge passed our hiding place. Their footsteps died away. We waited a few moments to make sure they'd really gone, then started to run in the opposite direction. Down one staircase, then another, along a new corridor—then we heard a cackling ahead.

"Peeves!" I muttered, grabbing Hermione's wrist. "In here!"

We tore into a deserted classroom to our left just in time. Peeves seemed to be bouncing along the corridor in boisterous good spirits, laughing his head off.

"Oh, he's horrible," whispered Hermione, her ear to the door. "I bet he's all excited because the dementors are going to finish off Sirius..." Peeves had never bothered me much and usually left me alone, but I had no doubt that Hermione was right, which made me feel peeved (:p). She checked her watch. "Three minutes!" 

We waited until Peeves's gloating voice had faded into the distance, then slid back out of the room and broke into a run again.

"Hermione—what'll happen—if we don't get back inside—before Dumbledore locks the door?" Harry panted.

"I don't want to think about it!" Hermione moaned, checking her watch again. "One minute!"

We had reached the end of the corridor with the hospital wing entrance. "Okay—I can hear Dumbledore," said Hermione tensely. "Come on!"

We crept along the corridor. The door opened. Grandfather's back appeared.

"I am going to lock you in," we heard him saying. "It is five minutes to midnight. Three turns should do it. Good luck."

My grandfather backed out of the room, closed the door, and took out his wand to magically lock it. Panicking, Harry, Hermione, and I ran forward. Dumbledore looked up, and a wide smile appeared under the long silver mustache. "Well?" he said quietly.

"We did it!" said Harry breathlessly. "Sirius has gone, on Buckbeak..."

Dumbledore beamed at us.

"Well done. I think—" He listened intently for any sound within the hospital wing. "Yes, I think you've gone too—get inside—I'll lock you in—"

We slipped back inside the dormitory. It was empty except for Ron, who was still lying motionless in the end bed. As the lock clicked behind us, a white hot pain flashed throughout my body and I cried out in pain as I collapsed to the floor; my ribs feeling like someone had cast a stinging hex on them...I could barely breath. My vision blurred and I could just make out Harry's form as I heard Madam Pomfrey come striding back out of her office.

"Did I hear the headmaster leaving? Am I allowed to look after my patients now? Katrina, oh dear! What happened to her!"

"She tried to get out of bed and collapsed!" Harry said quickly - only a half lie.

The world around me turned dark as I felt Madam Pomfrey's hands checking me over.

I yelped painfully as she brushed against my ribs and then started coughing as I tried to draw air into my lungs. It was no use. I closed my eyes and faded away as I waited for death to take me.

Harry's POV

"What's wrong with her!" I cried out as I watched my best friend's body go limp. She had seemed perfectly fine before now! 

"It would seem she broke a number of ribs, but I can't see how. I'd say she was kicked by something heavy. Her back is bruised as well - so whatever it was must have sent her flying. I can't understand it though, she was fine the last time I checked on her!"

Hermione and I shared a look as we remembered what Kat had told us had happened to her and reflected on the number of times Kat-Crookshanks had been kicked and sent flying that night. I felt my stomach churn as I remembered I had landed a solid kick of my own earlier. Was I partly to blame? I helped lift Kat back onto her bed and watched as Madam Pomfrey bent over her pale body and waved her wand. 

I sighed in relief as Kat's breathing went back to normal and a little bit of color returned to her cheeks. It was then that Madam turned angrily to Hermione and I and pointed at our beds. 

We thought it best to accept our chocolate quietly and got back into bed. Madam Pomfrey stood over us, making sure we ate it. But I could hardly swallow. I kept glancing at the bed next to me where Kat was peacefully resting as Hermione and I waited, listening, our nerves jangling...

And then, as we both took a fourth piece of chocolate from Madam Pomfrey, we heard a distant roar of fury echoing from somewhere above us...

"What was that?" said Madam Pomfrey in alarm.

Now we could hear angry voices, growing louder and louder. Madam Pomfrey was staring at the door.

"Really—they'll wake everybody up! What do they think they're doing?"

I was trying to hear what the voices were saying. They were drawing nearer—

"He must have Disapparated, Severus. We should have left somebody in the room with him. When this gets out—"

"HE DIDN'T DISAPPARATE!" Snape roared, now very close at hand. "YOU CAN'T APPARATE OR DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS—HAS—SOMETHING—TO—DO—WITH—POTTER!"

"Severus—be reasonable—Harry has been locked up—"

BAM.

The door of the hospital wing burst open.

Fudge, Snape, and Dumbledore came striding into the ward. Dumbledore alone looked calm. Indeed, he looked as though he was quite enjoying himself, though I saw him glance briefly towards Katrina to check that she was alright. Fudge appeared angry. But Snape was beside himself.

"OUT WITH IT, POTTER!" he bellowed. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"Professor Snape!" shrieked Madam Pomfrey. "Control yourself!"

"See here, Snape, be reasonable," said Fudge. "This door's been locked, we just saw—"

"THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!" Snape howled, pointing at Hermione and I. His face was twisted; spit was flying from his mouth.

"Calm down, man!" Fudge barked. "You're talking nonsense!"

"YOU DON'T KNOW POTTER!" shrieked Snape. "HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT—"

"That will do, Severus," said Dumbledore quietly. "Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the ward ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?"

"Of course not!" said Madam Pomfrey, bristling. "I would have heard them!"

"Well, there you have it, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly. "Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I'm afraid I don't see any point in troubling them further." I didn't fail to notice that Kat hadn't been mentioned but I figured it was for the best. She had been through too much tonight to have to worry about getting into trouble as well. 

Snape stood there, seething, staring from Fudge, who looked thoroughly shocked at his behavior, to Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling behind his glasses. Snape whirled about, robes swishing behind him, and stormed out of the ward.

"Fellow seems quite unbalanced," said Fudge, staring after him. "I'd watch out for him if I were you, Dumbledore."

"Oh, he's not unbalanced," said Dumbledore quietly. "He's just suffered a severe disappointment."

"He's not the only one!" puffed Fudge. "The Daily Prophet's going to have a field day! We had Black cornered and he slipped through our fingers yet again! All I need now is for the story of that hippogriff's escape to get out, and I'll be a laughingstock! Well...I'd better go and notify the Ministry..."

"And the dementors?" said Dumbledore. "They'll be removed from the school, I trust?"

"Oh yes, they'll have to go," said Fudge, running his fingers distractedly through his hair. "Never dreamed they'd attempt to administer the Kiss on innocent children...Completely out of control...no, I'll have them packed off back to Azkaban tonight...Perhaps we should think about dragons at the school entrance..."

"Hagrid and Katrina would like that," said Dumbledore, smiling at Hermione. and I. As he and Fudge left the dormitory, Madam Pomfrey hurried to the door and locked it again. Muttering angrily to herself, she headed back to her office.

There was a low moan from the other end of the ward. Ron had woken up. We could see him sitting up, rubbing his head, looking around.

"What—what happened?" he groaned. "Harry? Why are we in here? Where's Sirius? Where's Lupin? What's going on?"

Hermione and I looked at each other.

"You explain," I said, helping myself to some more chocolate.

When Ron, Hermione, and I left the hospital wing at noon the next day, it was to find an almost deserted castle. The sweltering heat and the end of the exams meant that everyone was taking full advantage of another Hogsmeade visit. Neither Ron nor Hermione felt like going, however, so we wandered onto the grounds; Madam Pomfrey had refused to let us in to see Kat. We walked around, still talking about the extraordinary events of the previous night and wondering where Sirius and Buckbeak were now. Sitting near the lake, watching the giant squid waving its tentacles lazily above the water, I lost the thread of the conversation as I looked across to the opposite bank. The stag and lioness had galloped toward Kat and I from there just last night...

A shadow fell across us and we looked up to see a very bleary-eyed Hagrid, mopping his sweaty face with one of his tablecloth-sized handkerchiefs and beaming down at us.

"Know I shouldn' feel happy, after wha' happened las' night," he said. "I mean, Black escapin' again, an' everythin'—but guess what?"

"What?" We said, pretending to look curious.

"Beaky! He escaped! He's free! Bin celebratin' all night!"

"That's wonderful!" said Hermione, giving Ron a reproving look because he looked as though he was close to laughing.

"Yeah...can't've tied him up properly," said Hagrid, gazing happily out over the grounds. "I was worried this mornin', mind...thought he mighta met Professor Lupin on the grounds, but Lupin says he never ate anythin' las' night..."

"What?" I said quickly.

"Blimey, haven' yeh heard?" said Hagrid, his smile fading a little. He lowered his voice, even though there was nobody in sight. "Er—Snape told all the Slytherins this mornin'...Thought everyone'd know by now...Professor Lupin's a werewolf, see. An' he was loose on the grounds las' night...He's packin' now, o' course."

"He's packing?" I said, alarmed. "Why?"

"Leavin', isn' he?" said Hagrid, looking surprised that I had to ask. "Resigned firs' thing this mornin'. Says he can't risk it happenin' again."

I scrambled to my feet.

"I'm going to see him," I said to Ron and Hermione.

"But if he's resigned—"

"—doesn't sound like there's anything we can do—"

"I don't care. I still want to see him. I'll meet up with you later.

Lupin's office door was open. He had already packed most of his things. The grindylow's empty tank stood next to his battered old suitcase, which was open and nearly full. Lupin was bending over something on his desk and looked up only when I knocked on the door.

"I saw you coming," said Lupin, smiling. He pointed to the parchment he had been poring over. It was the Marauder's Map.

"I just saw Hagrid," I said. "And he said you'd resigned. It's not true, is it?"

"I'm afraid it is," said Lupin. He started opening his desk drawers and taking out the contents.

"Why?" I asked. "The Ministry of Magic don't think you were helping Sirius, do they?"

Lupin crossed to the door and closed it behind me.

"No. Professor Dumbledore managed to convince Fudge that I was trying to save your lives." He sighed. "That was the final straw for Severus. I think the loss of the Order of Merlin hit him hard. So he—er—accidentally let slip that I am a werewolf this morning at breakfast."

"You're not leaving just because of that!" I said.

Lupin smiled wryly.

"This time tomorrow, the owls will start arriving from parents...They will not want a werewolf teaching their children, Harry. And after last night, I see their point. I could have bitten any of you...That must never happen again."

"You're the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had!" I stated. "Don't go!"

Lupin shook his head and didn't speak. He carried on emptying his drawers. Then, while I was trying to think of a good argument to make him stay, Lupin said, "From what the headmaster told me this morning, you and Katrina saved a lot of lives last night, Harry. If I'm proud of anything I've done this year, it's how much you two have learned...Tell me about your Patronuses.

"How d'you know about that?" I said, distracted.

"What else could have driven the dementors back?"

I told Lupin what had happened. When I'd finished, Lupin was smiling again.

"Yes, your father was always a stag when he transformed," he said. "You guessed right...that's why we called him Prongs...and Katrina started transforming into a lion cub after she was only a week old...it was so adorable..." I stared at Lupin as his eyes misted over.

"You...you knew Kat when she was little?" I said in surprise.

"Yes, yes I did. I knew both of you. I came over to your parent's house whenever it was safe to do so back then. Had to keep an eye on my little goddaughter didn't I? The amount of trouble you and her managed get into astounded us all!"

"Hang on, did you just say goddaughter? I though Snape was her godfather?" 

"He is...but so was I. Snape was Eliana's best friend - his only real friend. It was only natural that she name him; along with James, Lilly, Sirius, and I, as her child's god family. In turn, Eliana was your godmother, and Sirius, as you know, your godfather."

"But why..."

"Why were we all named guardians? Come on Harry, think about it. Dumbledore told me you found out who her father really is last year. Lilly, James, Sirius, and I were the only other people besides Dumbledore that Eliana trusted with the truth - I can only imagine what would have happened if she'd told Peter. Truth be told, I don't think Eliana had ever liked him much...anyways, considering who Kat's father is, we thought it best that she have as many sources of light to watch out for her. Please don't think you were left out! That wasn't it at all! We just didn't think that you would ever..."

"I understand, Lupin. Really, I do. There's no need to explain." I told him hurriedly as I saw him struggle to try to find the right words. "I wouldn't have had it any other way. You're right. Kat needs good people in her life to keep her grounded."

Lupin looked at me shrewdly as I said this. "And I couldn't think of anyone better than you, Harry."

Lupin threw his last few books into his case, closed the desk drawers; giving my red cheeks time to fade away, before turning back to me once more.

"Here—I brought this from the Shrieking Shack last night," he said, handing me back the Invisibility Cloak. "And..." He hesitated, then held out the Marauder's Map too. "I am no longer your teacher, so I don't feel guilty about giving you back this as well. It's no use to me, and I daresay you, Ron, Hermione, and Kat will find uses for it. Just try not to get my goddaughter into too much trouble! The two of you get into enough as it is."

I took the map and grinned. "I'll do my best. You told me Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs would've wanted to lure us out of school...you said they'd have thought it was funny."

"And so we would have," said Lupin, now reaching down to close his case. "I have no hesitation in saying that James and Sirius would have been highly disappointed if their children had never found any of the secret passages out of the castle."

There was a knock on the door. I hastily stuffed the Marauder's Map and the Invisibility Cloak into my pocket.

It was Professor Dumbledore. He didn't look surprised to see me there.

"Your carriage is at the gates, Remus," he said.

"Thank you, Headmaster."

Lupin picked up his old suitcase and the empty grindylow tank.

"Well—good-bye, Harry," he said, smiling. "It has been a real pleasure teaching you. I feel sure we'll meet again sometime. Headmaster, there is no need to see me to the gates, I can manage...Harry, tell my goddaughter I'm sorry about last night...and..." Lupin let the end of his sentence die unfinished.

I had the impression that Lupin wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

"Good-bye, then, Remus," said Dumbledore soberly. Lupin shifted the grindylow tank slightly so that he and Dumbledore could shake hands. Then, with a final nod to me and a swift smile, Lupin left the office.

 

I sat down in his vacated chair, staring glumly at the floor. I heard the door close and looked up. Dumbledore was still there.

"Why so miserable, Harry?" he said quietly. "You should be very proud of yourself after last night."

"It didn't make any difference," I said bitterly. "Pettigrew got away."

"Didn't make any difference?" said Dumbledore quietly. "It made all the difference in the world, Harry. You helped uncover the truth. You saved an innocent man from a terrible fate."

Terrible. Something stirred in my memory. Greater and more terrible than ever before...Professor Trelawney's prediction!

"Professor Dumbledore—yesterday, when I was having my Divination exam, Professor Trelawney went very—very strange."

"Indeed?" said Dumbledore. "Er—stranger than usual, you mean?"

"Yes...her voice went all deep and her eyes rolled and she said...she said Voldemort's servant was going to set out to return to him before midnight... She said the servant would help him come back to power along with his child...which...which would be Kat..." I stared up at Dumbledore. "And then she sort of became normal again, and she couldn't remember anything she'd said. Was it—was she making a real prediction?

Dumbledore looked mildly impressed.

"Do you know, Harry, I think she might have been," he said thoughtfully. "Who'd have thought it? That brings her total of real predictions up to two. I should offer her a pay raise..."

"But—" I looked at him, aghast. How could Dumbledore take this so calmly?

"But—Kat and I stopped Sirius and Professor Lupin from killing Pettigrew! That makes it our fault if Voldemort comes back!"

"It does not," said Dumbledore quietly. "Hasn't your experience with the Time-Turner taught you anything, Harry? The consequences of our actions are always so complicated, so diverse, that predicting the future is a very difficult business indeed...Professor Trelawney, bless her, is living proof of that...You two did a very noble thing, in saving Pettigrew's life."

"But if he helps Voldemort back to power—!"

"Pettigrew owes his life to you. The two of you have sent Voldemort a deputy who is in your debt...When one wizard saves another wizard's life, it creates a certain bond between them...and I'm much mistaken if Voldemort wants his servant in the debt of Harry Potter."

"I don't want a connection with Pettigrew!" I said. "He betrayed our parents!"

"This is magic at its deepest, its most impenetrable, Harry. But trust me... the time may come when you two will be very glad you saved Pettigrew's life."

I couldn't imagine when that would be. Dumbledore looked as though he knew what I was thinking.

"I knew your father very well, both at Hogwarts and later, Harry," he said gently. "He would have saved Pettigrew too, I am sure of it."

I looked up at him. Dumbledore wouldn't laugh—I could tell Dumbledore...

"I thought it was my dad who'd conjured my Patronus. I mean, when I saw myself across the lake...I thought I was seeing him and my mom...and I know Kat thought she saw her mum and Sirius.

"An easy mistake to make," said Dumbledore softly. "I expect you'll tire of hearing it, but you do look extraordinarily like James. Except for the eyes...you and Kat both have your mother's eyes."

I shook my head.

"It was stupid, thinking it was him," I muttered. "I mean, I knew he was dead."

"You think the dead we loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don't recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Your father is alive in you, Harry, and shows himself most plainly when you have need of him. How else could you produce that particular Patronus? Prongs and Aquila rode again last night. 

It took a moment for me to realize what Dumbledore had said.

"Last night Sirius told me all about how they became Animagi," said Dumbledore, smiling. "An extraordinary achievement—not least, keeping it quiet from me. And then I remembered the most unusual form your Patronus took, when it charged Mr. Malfoy down at your Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. You know, Harry, in a way, you and Kat did see James and Eliana last night..."

"But...Kat's Patronus isn't an eagle...so what do you mean her mother was there...Kat told us she was Crookshanks, not her mom - which I still don't understand!"

"I will do my best to explain, however, I feel it is only right to have this conversation with my granddaughter as well. I was going to go visit her after I notified Lupin his carriage had arrived. Would you like to join me? I'm sure Kat would love to see you."

I nodded and we exited the classroom and made our way up to the hospital wing together. 

Katrina's POV

I woke up later the next afternoon to see my grandfather and Harry sitting next to my bed. I sat up quickly but groaned as my ribs stretched painfully. Madam Pomfrey had managed to heal me up good as new but she said I would feel sore for a few days.

"Did we do it? Is my father free?" I saw Dumbledore and Harry glance at each other before my grandfather responded but I decided to ignore it. I just wanted to know wether we had succeeded or not.

"Yes, Katrina, dear. He and Buckbeak managed to escape and are now on the run. I have to say, you two did a splendid job!"

"Three...don't forget Hermione!" I told my grandfather. 

"Of course, my mistake," grandfather said, bowing his head in my direction.

"While we are on the subject...what the bloody hell happened to me! How did I become Hermione's cat...I'm not actually Crookshanks! Am I? I mean, he's a male cat. I don't want to be a male cat! Girls are way better than boys!" I added, as I grinned at Harry.  
" - and why does Buckbeak have my eyes - your eyes - our eyes?" I frowned as I tried to figure that last part out.

"Well, to answer your first question...no, of course you are not Crookshanks. He is a plain old cat - though a smart one at that. It appears that you are an Animorphmagus my dear."

"A what now?"

"An Animorphmagus. A cross between a Metamorphmagus and an Animagus. Someone who has the ability to morph into any animal or change their physical appearance. There's only ever been one other in existence before you - but her story is a tail for another time."

"Okayyy...still not really understanding...I know an Animagus has only one animal form, so if I can do more than one, wouldn't that just make me a Metamorphmagus? Or both? Why is there a third category?"

"Well, as you said, an Animagus is a witch or wizard who can turn into one particular animal - however, this animal usually reflects their inner spirit and influences the shape of their Patronus. As such, they can only transform into the animal that best represents their soul. In contrast, a Metamorphmagus is a witch or wizard who can change their features at will without a spell, wand, or potion. However, their powers pertain to simple human features. Someone who is both a Metamorphmagus and an Animagus would be able to change their human features and also powerful enough to transform into an animal, but they would not be able to transform their whole body into more than one animal, as once again, any full animal form represents who they are and rarely changes. I've heard of some individuals - like the new Auror Nymphadora Tonks - who are powerful enough to easily change one or two features to resemble that of any animal - once they become an Animagus, but as I said, they are still limited to just one full animal form.

"I still don't understand how being a cross between the two would allow me to take Crookshanks's form. I mean I didn't just transform into the cat version of myself, I became one that already existed. How is that possible? And what is it exactly about a Animorphmagus that makes them so rare that there's only one other person like me?"

"Unfortunately, you will have to wait a little longer before I can explain to you in more detail what happened with Crookshanks and the full answer to your second question would take far too long. Do not worry yourself over the parts you do not understand. I can, of course, answer your second question with the simplified version. 

"An Animorphmagus uses Metamorphmagus power as a means of turning what might otherwise be considered an Animagus form, into whatever animal is desired. 

"But I still don't understand why a Metamorphmagus who was also an Animagus couldn't just learn to use their power as you just described."

"As we discussed, in order to take on the form of an animal, a witch or wizard has to find a link to connect to that animal - which is why an Animagi's Patronus takes the same form; the two are the embodiment and animalistic representation of a witch or wizard's spirit. Just like the Patronus of any witch or wizard, if an Animagi were to experience something that changed them so drastically as to effect the core of their soul, it might change their animal form. But it is entirely different to be able to change animal form at will. An Animorphmagus; like you will become once you learn to control your powers, is therefore, not really an Animagi. You are not tied down to one animal like they are - as there is no one animal that embodies your entire essence. In addition, a Metamorphmagus inherits the ability to change form from one or both parents - it is an innate ability that they have and doesn't require much mental power to pull off. Therefore, in order to be both a Metamorphamgus and an Animagus or even an Animorphmagus, a witch or wizard must first and foremost be a Metamorphmagus - it would not be possible for an Animagus to learn to be a Metamorphmagus, but the reverse could be true. A Metamorphmagus could learn to be an Animagus if their mind was strong enough to handle it. It takes a certain mental strength and awareness of the natural world to pull off the animal transformation. Most Metamorphmagi who have an Animagus form, do not have the type of spirit and soul that would be required to combine the two. Which is one explanation as to why there has only ever been one other individual like yourself. It's something that can only be created under the right circumstances. As I'm sure you will find out once you start experimenting, even for you, a full animal transformation will be far more difficult than if you were to change only one or two features like any other Metamorphmagus. 

"That seems to make enough sense, though it didn't seem like a simplified explanation if you ask me! But can you not at least try to explain what happened with Crookshanks! I still don't understand how it was possible for me to become something that already existed. I would think that any animal I changed into would be me, just in a different form, like what happened when I turned into the lion cub! It's not like I became one that already had a whole other life!"

"Well, the best way I can explain it for now is that you entered Crookshanks's mind using legillimancy - which linked with your Animorphmagus power. You might say that once you were inside his mind, you became so caught up in the cat's thoughts that you got swept away in the desire to become him; which pulled the Animorphus powers out of you and allowed you to take the cat's form. Since you are far more powerful than you realize, just one passing thought was able to activate your powers even though you didn't know you had them at the time. And just so you know, while you will be able to shift your appearance to almost anything you desire, as the saying goes; the eyes are the windows to the soul. You will never be able to change them - no matter what or whose form you choose to take - the eyes will be yours - which I have to say - are beautiful - but maybe I'm being a tad biased. How unprofessional of me - I should really work on that." I stared at my grandfather as his blue eyes twinkled at me. He was crazier than I was...but I loved it. Did that make me the wacky one after all?

"I think I'm starting to understand. Just one last question. Why is my Patronus a lioness if I can shift into any animal and don't have a normal soul? Does that mean I could change it whenever I wanted as well?"

"That's the overall sense of it yes, but your soul is just as normal as anyone else's - it's just a little more...dynamic. Only you can answer whether or not your Patronus will change or whether you will stick with the lioness."

"Ok, it all makes sense I guess...no wait, hang on...I have one final question! You still haven't explained about Buckbeak. Am I going to use my Time Turner again to go back and turn into him as well? Because I don't see why I would need to...but his eyes looked like mine..."

"No, no you aren't. Unfortunately I cannot give you a definite answer, but I can give you my best guess, though some of the explanation will have to wait till you are ready to hear it as I've told you before. Will that satisfy you for now?" I nodded, since I knew my grandfather's guesses often turned out to be right and that he would tell me what I needed to know when the time was right.

"As I told you and Harry at the end of your first year, when Voldemort killed your mothers, it created a powerful protection charm. As you also know, when he tried to kill you and Harry, the killing curse rebounded. If I am right, the same happened to my daughter - the spell rebounded with the result that her soul was transferred to the closest and most compatible host it could find - Buckbeak. Being half-eagle and half-horse, the Hippogriff was the most suitable match."

"So then, my mother is alive?" I said excitedly. My grandfather's eyes teared up as he shook his head slowly.

"Unfortunately, no. The killing curse was strong enough to kill her mortal body - and thereby create the protection charm - it just wasn't strong enough to banish her soul entirely. She is not alive, nor is she dead. She is, for all intents and purposes, bonded with Buckbeak till the day he dies. When he does, then she will truly be gone as well."

Dumbledore stood up and looked down at me with misty eyes. "I'm sorry I can't offer you a more complete answer but there are many things I still don't know, and many that you are not ready to hear. Now I really must be off." With that said, he spun around and swept out of the room.

Harry and I sat there in silence for a time - neither of us knowing what to say and still trying to take in everything we had just heard. There was still so much that didn't make sense but I couldn't focus on that. I had to stick with what did make sense and work on controlling what I could instead of worrying about what I couldn't.

The minutes ticked by and still we sat quietly until I finally decided to speak up.

"Harry?"

"Yes, Kat?"

"I'm hungry!"

We both laughed loudly as Harry got up to go find Madam Pomfrey. He came back holding as much food as he could possibly carry. I ate it all. I smiled happily at my best friend as I licked the plate clean.

"Had enough?" He said, grinning at me.

"For now," I grinned back and set the plate on the bedside table.

"Hey, Harry, do you mind if I try something?"

"Sure?" Harry said slowly, not knowing what he was agreeing to. I chuckled evilly and enjoyed watching him squirm as he contemplated what doom was in store for him. It wasn't going to be THAT bad! I hoped...unless it went wrong, then maybe...

I shook my head and tried to empty my mind enough to think on single thought. I cracked an eye open slowly and was pleased when I saw that my vision had changed again. I looked down and saw golden fur. It had worked!

Harry's POV

I shifted nervously as I watched Kat sit cross-legged on the bed and close her eyes. What was she doing? Then I gasped. Sitting on the bed grinning happily at me, was the cutest lion cub I had ever seen - despite the sharp deadly teeth that were glinting at me.

 

I got out of my chair and slid onto the bed as I picked the creature up as gently as I could. Her twinkling blue eyes stared up at me the whole time and there was no doubt in my mind as to who it was. 

I sat on the bed and played with Kat until the sun went down and the moon rose in the sky. I got us dinner and watched as she tore into her food with gusto, her sleek golden tail flicking back and forth the entire time. 

After we had finished eating, it was time for bed. Kat was supposed to stay one more night in the hospital but she jumped to the floor and dashed over to the door and pawed at the handle. She was too small to reach it. She dashed back to me and tugged on my leg as she tried to drag me over to help.

I laughed and went over to yank the door open. Then I bent down and picked her up into my arms and headed off towards Gryffindor Tower. Ron looked at me and the creature in my arms with wide eyes. I quickly explained and he grinned at me as he climbed into his own bed. I frowned, not liking the knowing look he sent me as he glanced from me to Kat and back.

She hopped out of my arms and onto the bed and crooked a paw to signal that I should join her. I grinned at the recognizable gesture and got into bed. She squealed as I pulled the covers up but managed to get out of the way before I could trap her underneath them. I couldn't help but grin widely as she hissed at me, her tail high in the air. 

I was lulled asleep that night by the sound of Kat purring quietly as the pleasant heat from her soft golden fur seeped through the covers and warmed my skin as she lay curled up on top of them.

********************************************

Katrina's POV

Nobody at Hogwarts now knew the truth of what had happened the night that Sirius, Buckbeak, and Pettigrew had vanished except Harry, Ron, Hermione, myself, and grandfather. As the end of term approached, I heard many different theories about what had really happened, but none of them came close to the truth.

Malfoy was furious about Buckbeak. He was convinced that Hagrid had found a way of smuggling the hippogriff to safety, and seemed outraged that he and his father had been outwitted by a gamekeeper. Now that I knew Buckbeak carried a part of my mother's soul, I was even happier that we had managed to save him/her. Percy Weasley, meanwhile, had much to say on the subject of Sirius's escape.

"If I manage to get into the Ministry, I'll have a lot of proposals to make about Magical Law Enforcement!" he told the only person who would listen—his girlfriend, Penelope.

Though the weather was perfect, though the atmosphere was so cheerful, though we knew we had achieved the near impossible in helping Sirius to freedom, Harry and I had never approached the end of a school year in worse spirits.

We certainly weren't the only ones who were sorry to see Professor Lupin go. The whole of our Defense Against the Dark Arts class was miserable about his resignation. Harry had passed on Lupin's message and told me about my mother naming Lupin and his own mother and father as my guardians along with Sev. I felt so guilty for not knowing and not spending more time with him while I had the chance. Harry told me I was being crazy - that he was sure the four of us; me, Harry, Sirius, and Lupin, would be reunited soon enough and have plenty of time to make up for lost time. I was sure he was right, but I still felt sad that we wouldn't be moving in with each other over the summer like I'd thought. 

"Wonder what they'll give us next year?" said Seamus Finnigan gloomily.

"Maybe a vampire," suggested Dean Thomas hopefully.

I sighed as I walked down the halls to find my friends; I had stopped by my room to drop my bag off. I tried to focus on being happy that classes were over and that my appetite had finally returned and that I was sleeping normally, but I couldn't help thinking about my father as I walked up the steps to the Gryffindor Tower.

For maybe half an hour, a glorious half hour, I had believed I would be living with Sirius and Harry from now on...my father and my best friend...And while no news of Sirius was definitely good news, because it meant he had successfully gone into hiding, I couldn't help feeling miserable when I thought of the home I might have had, and the fact that it was now impossible.

I climbed through the portrait hole and found my friends already sitting by the fire with letters in their hands. 

The exam results had come in. I tore mine open nervously and looked at it. We then swapped and I got to read Hermione's. Then we swapped again and again till we'd all read each other's 

We had all passed every subject. Harry and I were amazed that he had got through Potions. I had a shrewd suspicion that grandfather might have stepped in to stop Snape failing him on purpose. Sev's behavior toward Harry over the past week had been quite alarming. I wouldn't have thought it possible that Sev's dislike for him could increase, but it certainly had. A muscle twitched unpleasantly at the corner of Snape's thin mouth every time he looked at Harry, and he was constantly flexing his fingers, as though itching to place them around Harry's throat.

Percy had got his top-grade N.E.W.T.s and Fred and George had scraped a handful of O.W.L.s each. Gryffindor House, meanwhile, largely thanks to our spectacular performance in the Quidditch Cup, had won the House championship for the third year running. This meant that the end of term feast took place amid decorations of scarlet and gold, and that the Gryffindor table was the noisiest of the lot, as everybody celebrated. 

"So what do you two ladies want to do to celebrate our last night?" Ron asked as we left the feast and headed back to the common room.

"Actually, Hermione and I were planning to camp out by the fireplace and have a girl's night...sorry Ron! Sorry Harry!" The boys walked off all grumpy-faced and Hermione and I laughed. 

"What would they do without us!" I grinned as I crossed arms with Hermione. We stopped by my room so I could bring a couple of blankets and pillows and then made our way up to the tower. 

"Hey, Hermione, if we had a few extra blankets, we could lay them out across the three chairs by the fire and drape a few to cover the space in front of and above the fireplace to make a fort - in such a way that they don't catch fire of course! How awesome would that be?" Hermione squealed in answer and dashed up to her room and came back carrying her blankets and pillows as well. 

When we were done, our fort was a masterpiece. We'd lined the edges with our pillows to creat mini walls and fireproofed the blankets closest to the fire so that we could pin them up above the fireplace and connect them to the blankets we'd draped across the sofa chairs. Hermione ran up to her room to bring down some games and I ran down to the kitchen to ask the house elves if we could pretty please have some midnight snacks. Of course they were happy to oblige. I grinned and thanked them profusely before carrying it all up to our fort. 

I smiled as Hermione stared at the food as I crawled under the blankets and began laying it all out on the chairs - which served as makeshift tables. 

"Where did you get all of that?"

"It's a secret. Fred and George would kill me if I told you," I stated as I surveyed the games she'd brought down. "What shall we start off with?" 

Hermione pointed to the chess board and we lay down on our stomachs and set up the pieces. 

We were halfway through our third game when I noticed Hermione staring at me with a curious expression on her face.

"Something wrong Hermione?"

"No, not exactly, I was just thinking about something..."

"Well, what is it?"

"I-Well, I was just thinking about what Lupin said when he mentioned Eliana..."

"He said a few things, Hermione, you're going to have to be more specific," I said as I commanded my rook to take her bishop. 

"He-he said her last name was Dumbledore...and if she's your mother, than doesn't that mean..." 

"Yeah, he's my grandfather. Harry and I found out at the end of our first year after we saved the stone. He said it was too dangerous for people to know though and made us promise not to tell anyone. I'm sorry! Do you think this means Ron knows too?"

"It's okay! Professor Dumbledore is not exactly wrong...it's just weird to think that you two are related but I guess it explains all the similarities you share...and seriously? You and I both know Ron wouldn't remember a small but important detail like that! Not when there was so many other things going on! I myself only remembered it earlier today...um...there's something else I was wondering though, regarding what Sirius said about you and your mother staying with Harry's family. If you were there that night...am I right to assume that means Voldemort tried to kill you as well?"

I nodded my head, not sure what to say. 

"...but you survived...like Harry did?"

I nodded again and shifted uncomfortably as I told her what my grandfather had said to Harry and I two years ago. 

"Wow, that's...that's..." Hermione struggled to find something to say but couldn't. "I'm sorry, Kat. About your mom, and Sirius, and well...just everything. But you know you have me and Harry and Ron - when he's not being a total clueless idiot, right? We'll always be there for you! You're my best friend!"

"And your mine, Hermione. I don't know what I'd do without you and Harry - and Ron - when he's not being a clueless idiot!" We laughed at that and went back to playing the game. 

"Hey, Hermione? Wanna see something weird?" She nodded, as I knew she would. I scootched over to her and pulled the top of my pajama shirt so that she could see my collar bone.

"That...that looks just like Harry's...only sideways!" She gasped. I rearranged my top and picked up two spoons and the container of ice cream. 

"Yeah, I don't know why, but it hurts whenever his does, how weird is that? Anyways, I just thought you should know since you know everything else about me now and I know you won't tell anyone. I don't want people freaking out and obsessing over it like they do with Harry, you know? I'm enough of an oddball as it is!" She nodded in understanding and we worked our way through the container of ice cream till it was finished.

"Oh, my Merlin! I can't believe we ate all that!"

"I know! I'm so full...and yet...I want more!" I laughed and rolled over to grab two cookies from the plate I'd brought up.

"Here, have a cookie instead, it's healthier," I told her as I handed her one. We burst out laughing.

A few hours later after I told her everything grandfather had said about my Animorphmagus ability, we finally decided it was time to sleep and made a makeshift bed under the fort. 

"Hey, Kat!" Hermione said excitedly turning to me as we pulled the blankets over us and lay down.

"Yeah?"

"I completely forgot! I asked my parents if you could come stay with us for the summer and they said they would love to meet you! Would you want to? You'd have to share a room with me and we'd have to walk or take public transportation everywhere since I'm not old enough to drive and my parents will be working...so it's ok if you don't want too..."

"Are you crazy? Of course I want too! If you're sure your parents are ok with it! Oh wait, I'd have to keep Drake in the house! Salazar can find somewhere out of view to sleep but what if they don't want a dragon around! It's not exactly a normal thing!"

"I think it should be fine. Salazar can probably stay inside in his cage during the day or just fly around outside and I'm sure they'd be ok with Drake staying as well! He's so cute and well behaved, I'm sure they'll love him! So how bout it?"

"I'd absolutely love to, Hermione!" We grinned happily at each other and stayed up for another few hours discussing everything we wanted to do over the summer. 

I fell asleep that night with a smile on my face.

********************************************

As the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station the next morning, Hermione and I told Harry and Ron our new plan for next year. 

"We went to see Professor McGonagall this morning, just before breakfast. We've decided to drop Muggle Studies."

"But you two passed the exam with three hundred and twenty percent!" said Ron.

"I know," sighed Hermione.

"- but we can't stand another year like this one. Those Time-Turners were driving us mad!" I said.

"We've handed them in. Without Muggle Studies and Divination, we'll be able to have a normal schedule again." Hermione finished for me.

"I still can't believe you didn't tell us about them," said Ron grumpily. "We're supposed to be your friends."

"We promised we wouldn't tell anyone," said Hermione severely. She looked around at Harry, who I noticed was watching Hogwarts disappear from view behind a mountain. 

"Oh, cheer up, Harry!" said Hermione sadly.

"I'm okay," said Harry quickly. "Just thinking about the holidays."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about them too," said Ron. "Harry, you've got to come and stay with us. I'll fix it up with Mum and Dad, then I'll call you. I know how to use a fellytone now—"

"A telephone, Ron," said Hermione and I together. 

"Honestly, you should take Muggle Studies next year..." I laughed at Hermione's side comment.

Ron ignored her.

"It's the Quidditch World Cup this summer! How about it, Harry? Come and stay, and we'll go and see it! Dad can usually get tickets from work."

I could tell this proposal had the effect of cheering Harry up a great deal.

"Yeah...I bet the Dursleys'd be pleased to let me come...especially after what I did to Aunt Marge..."

We spent the next few hours playing several games of Exploding Snap, and when the witch with the tea cart arrived, Harry and I bought everyone a very large lunch, though nothing with chocolate in it. We laughed and talked and I felt better than I had all year.

But it was late in the afternoon before the thing that made me truly happy turned up...

"Harry, Kat," said Hermione suddenly, peering over our shoulders. "What's that thing outside the window?"

Harry and I turned to look outside. Something very small and gray was bobbing in and out of sight beyond the glass. Harry stood up for a better look and I saw that it was a tiny owl, carrying a letter that was much too big for it. The owl was so small, in fact, that it kept tumbling over in the air, buffeted this way and that in the train's slipstream. 

Harry quickly pulled down the window, stretched out his arm, and caught it. It looked like a very fluffy Snitch. He brought it carefully inside. The owl dropped its letter onto Harry's seat and began zooming around our compartment, apparently very pleased with itself for accomplishing its task. Hedwig and Salazar clicked their beaks with a sort of dignified disapproval. Crookshanks sat up in his seat, following the owl with his great yellow eyes. Ron, noticing this, snatched the owl safely out of harm's way.

Harry picked up the letter. It was addressed to the both of us. He ripped open the letter as I looked over his shoulder and we shouted, "It's from Sirius!"

"What?" said Ron and Hermione excitedly. "Read it aloud!"

Dear Harry and Katrina,

I hope this finds you before you reach the train station. I don't know whether Harry's relatives are used to owl post.

Buckbeak and I are in hiding. I won't tell you where, in case this owl falls into the wrong hands. I have some doubt about his reliability, but he is the best I could find, and he did seem eager for the job.

I believe the dementors are still searching for me, but they haven't a hope of finding me here. I am planning to allow some Muggles to glimpse me soon, a long way from Hogwarts, so that the security on the castle will be lifted.

There is something I never got around to telling you during our brief meeting. It was I who sent you the Firebolts -

"Ha!" said Hermione triumphantly. "See! I told you it was from him!"

"Yes, but he hadn't jinxed them, had he?" said Ron. "Ouch!" The tiny owl, now hooting happily in his hand, had nibbled one of his fingers in what it seemed to think was an affectionate way.

Crookshanks took the order to the Owl Office for me. I used your names but told them to take the gold from my own Gringotts vault. Please consider it as thirteen birthdays' worth of presents from your father/godfather.

I would also like to apologize for the fright I think I gave you, Harry, that night last year when you left your uncle's house. I had only hoped to get a glimpse of you before starting my journey north, but I think the sight of me alarmed you. I also want to thank you, Kat, for the kindness you showed me when I was nothing more to you than a stray hungry dog. You really are my angelous paulo. Te amo in infinitum (I love you to infinity)

I am enclosing something else for you, Harry, which I think will make your next year at Hogwarts more enjoyable.

If ever you need me, send word. Your owls will find me.

I'll write again soon.

Sirius

Harry looked eagerly inside the envelope. There was another piece of parchment in there. He read it through quickly and I watched his face light up as the smile I loved so much appeared. He handed me the note and I grinned at him.

I, Sirius Black, Harry Potter's godfather, hereby give him permission to visit Hogsmeade on weekends.

"That'll be good enough for Dumbledore!" said Harry happily. He looked back at Sirius's letter.

"Hang on, there's a P.S..."

I thought your friend Ron might like to keep this owl, as it's my fault he no longer has a rat.

Ron's eyes widened. The tiny owl was still hooting excitedly.

"Keep him?" he said uncertainly. He looked closely at the owl for a moment; then, to our great surprise, he held him out for Crookshanks to sniff.

"What do'you reckon?" Ron asked the cat. "Definitely an owl?"

We arrived at the train station and I hugged Harry and Ron before joining up with Hermione as she searched the crowd for her parents. 

"Ready?" I asked her.

"For what?"

I linked arms with her as I grinned. "The best summer ever!"

Explanations

\- Buckbeak: So in actuality, the act of Voldemort killing the mother of his child and attempting to kill his own flesh and blood was exponentially greater than when he tried to kill Harry which is what causes Eliana's soul to linger long enough for it to attach to a new compatible body. Basically the good version of a horcrux that will naturally die (if anyone can come up with a good term to call it I'll dedicate that chapter when it finally arrives to you!) I'm obviously changing a little bit of the book so that when Hagrid arrives that night - he's on Buckbeak but once he gets there, Sirius lets him have his motorcycle. Since the Hippogriff was close proximity wise and Eliana/Aquila is associated with the deity Garuda - half-eagle half-human, it's what allowed her soul to make the bond with Buckbeak in particular (and isn't it so sweet that she manages to find Sirius again!) She has that nickname for a reason people! (It wasn't just in the ethereal sense but also literal!)

\- Animorphmagus Power: so everything I said earlier in explanation is completely true and yes Kat is obviously as skilled at ligillimancy as her father but what really happened in this particular instant with Crookshanks was that she possessed the cat. Hence why there was only one cat running around and not two and why she looked like/was him. She has the ability to morph into a version of a cat if she wanted to but if she used the Animorphmagus power on its own without the legillimency/possession power, she'd be herself in cat form - Kat the cat, whereas, when she possesses someone - she takes over their body - which then turns the animal's eyes blue as well like how people's eyes turn red if/when Voldemort possesss then - it's an important distinction so please let me know if there's any confusion still about Buckbeak or Crookshanks! I hope I explained it well enough. Really hoping y'all understand the whole star connection Buckbeak thing and that Kat's showing inherited Riddle power with the possession. There's a few secrets I'm keeping about all of this for the six book so there might be a few loose ends but it's on purpose. Totally rambling -point is - let me know whether or not it all makes sense so far!

********************************************

In-line Comments/Questions

\- Fudge is delusional if he thinks Harry will say that!  
\- Kat collapses because it was only once they walked back into the hospital wing that time caught up again - like in the movie - she was wrong when she thought it had earlier  
\- Poor Harry gets cheated on the whole godparents deal but I'm hoping y'all see why I did it/can see that he didn't need extra guardians to assure he didn't turn evil since there's too much good in him. It's not like Lupin, Sirius, Snape (well maybe not Snape haha) James, and Lilly, and Eliana love(d) him any less just because they were/are Kat's godparents  
\- Aww look, Dumbledore admitting to another mistake - maybe it's just easier with Kat since she's family <3  
\- hoping it's obvious that Kat's appetite returns because she now knows that her father is innocent and her world makes sense again...for now :p  
\- hope the whole Kat showing Hermione her scar thing didn't seem too out of the blue or random but I wanted to get that out of the way so it makes more sense when Harry and her have the Voldemort dream over the summer ya know?  
\- as always comment, share, like, etc to let me know what you thought of this chapter and the whole book now that it's finally done!  
\- sorry there's so much extra notes this time! Just really wanna make sure everything is clear since I totally just made up new HP terms/concepts


	61. The Riddle House

3rd Person POV

The villagers of Little Hangleton still called it 'the Riddle House', even though it had been many years since the Riddle family had lived there. It stood on a hill overlooking the village, some of its windows boarded, tiles missing from its roof, and ivy spreading unchecked over its face. Once a fine-looking manor, and easily the largest and grandest building for miles around, the Riddle House was now damp, derelict and unoccupied.

The Little Hangletons all agreed that the old house was 'creepy'. Half a century ago, something strange and horrible had happened there, something that the older inhabitants of the village still liked to discuss when topics for gossip were scarce. The story had been picked over so many times, and had been embroidered in so many places, that nobody was quite sure what the truth was any more. Every version of the tale, however, started in the same place: fifty years before, at daybreak on a fine summer's morning, when the Riddle House had still been well kept and impressive, and a maid had entered the drawing room to find all three Riddles dead.

The maid had run screaming down the hill into the village, and roused as many people as she could.

"Lying there with their eyes wide open! Cold as ice! Still in their dinner things!"

The police were summoned, and the whole of Little Hangleton had seethed with shocked curiosity and ill-disguised excitement. Nobody wasted their breath pretending to feel very sad about the Riddles, for they had been most unpopular. Elderly Mr and Mrs Riddle had been rich, snobbish and rude, and their grown-up son, Tom, had been even more so. All the villagers cared about was the identity of their murderer – plainly, three apparently healthy people did not all drop dead of natural causes on the same night.

The Hanged Man, the village pub, did a roaring trade that night; the whole village had turned out to discuss the murders. They were rewarded for leaving their firesides when the Riddles' cook arrived dramatically in their midst, and announced to the suddenly silent pub that a man called Frank Bryce had just been arrested.

"Frank!" cried several people. "Never!"

Frank Bryce was the Riddles' gardener. He lived alone in a run-down cottage in the Riddle House grounds. Frank had come back from the war with a very stiff leg and a great dislike of crowds and loud noises, and had been working for the Riddles ever since.

There was a rush to buy the cook drinks, and hear more details.

"Always thought he was odd," she told the eagerly listening villagers, after her fourth sherry. "Unfriendly, like. I'm sure if I've offered him a cuppa once, I've offered it a hundred times. Never wanted to mix, he didn't."

"Ah, now," said a woman at the bar, "he had a hard war, Frank, he likes the quiet life. That's no reason to –"

"Who else had a key to the back door, then?" barked the cook. "There's been a spare key hanging in the gardener's cottage far back as I can remember! Nobody forced the door last night! No broken windows! All Frank had to do was creep up to the big house while we was all sleeping ..."

The villagers exchanged dark looks.

"I always thought he had a nasty look about him, right enough," grunted a man at the bar.

"War turned him funny, if you ask me," said the landlord.

"Told you I wouldn't like to get on the wrong side of Frank, didn't I, Dot?" said an excited woman in the corner.

"Horrible temper," said Dot, nodding fervently, "I remember, when he was a kid ..."

By the following morning, hardly anyone in Little Hangleton doubted that Frank Bryce had killed the Riddles.

But over in the neighbouring town of Great Hangleton, in the dark and dingy police station, Frank was stubbornly repeating, again and again, that he was innocent, and that the only person he had seen near the house on the day of the Riddles' deaths had been a teenage boy, a stranger, dark-haired and pale. Nobody else in the village had seen any such boy, and the police were quite sure that Frank had invented him.

Then, just when things were looking very serious for Frank, the report on the Riddles' bodies came back and changed everything.

The police had never read an odder report. A team of doctors had examined the bodies, and had concluded that none of the Riddles had been poisoned, stabbed, shot, strangled, suffocated or (as far as they could tell) harmed at all. In fact, the report continued, in a tone of unmistakable bewilderment, the Riddles all appeared to be in perfect health – apart from the fact that they were all dead. The doctors did note (as though determined to find something wrong with the bodies) that each of the Riddles had a look of terror upon his or her face – but as the frustrated police said, whoever heard of three people being frightened to death?

As there was no proof that the Riddles had been murdered at all, the police were forced to let Frank go. The Riddles were buried in the Little Hangleton churchyard, and their graves remained objects of curiosity for a while. To everyone's surprise, and amidst a cloud of suspicion, Frank Bryce returned to his cottage in the grounds of the Riddle House.

''S'far as I'm concerned, he killed them, and I don't care what the police say," said Dot in the Hanged Man. "And if he had any decency, he'd leave here, knowing as how we knows he did it."

But Frank did not leave. He stayed to tend the garden for the next family who lived in the Riddle House, and then the next – for neither family stayed long. Perhaps it was partly because of Frank that each new owner said there was a nasty feeling about the place, which, in the absence of inhabitants, started to fall into disrepair.

Katrina's POV

Hermione and I rolled into bed exhausted after the day we'd had. When gone into the city, had lunch in the park, went for a swim, and then stayed up late playing wizards chess.

I looked over at Drake; who was already curled up on his makeshift bed in the corner of Hermione's bedroom, and sighed sleepily as I watched small streams of smoke rise into the air as the little dragon huffed in his sleep. I lay next to Hermione and watched Drake's scales change color in his sleep until I fell my own eyelids shut tight.

I was in the midst of a wonderful dream where I soared through the air riding Buckbeak with my father. Then suddenly everything changed.

I looked around trying to see through the inky black of my new surroundings but was unable to see a thing. I jumped as I heard a rustling movement from behind me and turned around just in time to see a candle being lit by a strange old man I had never seen before.

I watched curiously as he limped downstairs into the kitchen to refill his water bottle with hot water. As he stood at the sink, filling the kettle, he looked out of the window towards a large house at the top of the hill. I followed his gaze to see lights glimmering in its upper windows.

I continued to observe as the old man put down the kettle, hurried back upstairs to change clothes, then came back down and removed a rusty old key from its hook by the door. He picked up his walking stick, which was propped against the wall, and set off into the night.

The man paused at the front door before limping around to the back of the house until he reached a door almost completely hidden by ivy, took out the old key, put it into the lock and opened the door noiselessly.

He had let himself into a cavernous kitchen. He seemed to know his way around and he groped his way around the house until he reached the hall, which was a little lighter owing to the large mullioned windows either side of the front door, and started to climb the stairs.

On the landing, the old man turned right and I saw that at the very end of the passage, a door stood ajar and a flickering light shone through the gap, casting a long sliver of gold across the black floor. The man edged closer and closer, grasping his walking stick firmly. Several feet from the entrance, the two of us were able to see a narrow slice of the room beyond.

The fire had been lit in the grate and the man stopped moving as we both listened intently, for a man's voice spoke within the room; it sounded timid and fearful.

"There is a little more in the bottle, my Lord, if you are still hungry."

"Later," said a second voice. This, too, belonged to a man – but it was strangely high-pitched, and cold as a sudden blast of icy wind. Something about that voice made the sparse hairs on the back of my neck stand up. "Move me closer to the fire, Wormtail."

I gasped in my sleep as I recognized the nickname for Peter Pettigrew - the man who had been responsible for the murder of my mother and best friend's parents as well as the reason my father had spent the last 15 years of his life in Azkaban prison.

There came the chink of a bottle being put down upon some hard surface, and then the dull scraping noise of a heavy chair being dragged across the floor. I caught a glimpse of a small man, his back to the door, pushing the chair into place. He was wearing a long black cloak, and there was a bald patch at the back of his head. Then he disappeared from sight again.

"Where is Nagini?" said the cold voice.

"I-I don't know, my Lord," said Wormtail nervously. "She set out to explore the house, I think ..."

"You will milk her before we retire, Wormtail," said the second voice. I frowned as something about it seemed familiar but I couldn't place who it belonged to. "I will need feeding in the night. The journey has tired me greatly."

There was a pause, and then Wormtail spoke again.

"My Lord, may I ask how long we are going to stay here?"

"A week," said the cold voice. "Perhaps longer. The place is moderately comfortable, and the plan cannot proceed yet. It would be foolish to act before the Quidditch World Cup is over."

"The - the Quidditch World Cup, my Lord?" said Wormtail. "Forgive me, but - I do not understand - why should we wait until the World Cup is over?"

"Because, fool, at this very moment wizards are pouring into the country from all over the world, and every meddler from the Ministry of Magic will be on duty, on the watch for signs of unusual activity, checking and double-checking identities. They will be obsessed with security, lest the Muggles notice anything. So we wait."

"Your Lordship is still determined, then?" Wormtail said quietly.

"Certainly I am determined, Wormtail." There was a note of menace in the cold voice now.

Another slight pause followed - and then Wormtail spoke, the words tumbling from him in a rush, as though he was forcing himself to say this before he lost his nerve.

"Could it not be done without Harry Potter or the girl, my Lord? Surely you could find others!"

Another pause, more protracted, and then -

"How many times must we go over this, Wormatil. It has to be her and without Harry Potter?" breathed the second voice softly. "I see..."

"My Lord, I do not say this out of concern for the boy!" said Wormtail, his voice rising squeakily. "The boy is nothing to me, nothing at all! Nor is the girl! It is merely that if we were to use another witch or wizard - any wizard - the thing could be done so much more quickly! If you allowed me to leave you for a short while - you know that I can disguise myself most effectively - I could be back here in as little as two days with a suitable replacement for the boy -"

"I could use another wizard," said the second voice softly, "that is true..."

"My Lord, it makes sense," said Wormtail, sounding thoroughly relieved now, "laying hands on Harry Potter would be so difficult, he is so well protected - it will be difficult enough to get our hands on the girl!"

"And so you volunteer to go and fetch me a substitute? I wonder...perhaps the task of nursing me has become wearisome for you, Wormtail? Could this suggestion of abandoning the plan be nothing more than an attempt to desert me?"

"My Lord! I-I have no wish to leave you, none at all -"

"Do not lie to me!" hissed the second voice. "I can always tell, Wormtail! You are regretting that you ever returned to me. I revolt you. I see you flinch when you look at me, feel you shudder when you touch me..."

"No! My devotion to your Lordship -"

"Your devotion is nothing more than cowardice. You would not be here if you had anywhere else to go. How am I to survive without you, when I need feeding every few hours? Who is to milk Nagini?"

"But you seem so much stronger, my Lord -"

"Liar," breathed the second voice. "I am no stronger, and a few days alone would be enough to rob me of the little health I have regained under your clumsy care. Silence!"

Wormtail, who had been spluttering incoherently, fell silent at once. For a few seconds, I could hear nothing but the fire crackling. Then the second man spoke once more, in a whisper that was almost a hiss.

"I have my reasons for using the boy, as I have already explained to you, and I will use no other. The girl, of course, is essential, and cannot be replaced - nor would I want to replace her. The amount of power she holds will only serve to strengthen me further. I have waited thirteen years. A few more months will make no difference. As for the protection surrounding them, I believe my plan will be effective. All that is needed is a little courage from you, Wormtail - courage you will find, unless you wish to feel the full extent of Lord Voldemort's wrath -"

I squirmed underneath the bed covers as my terrible suspicion was confirmed.

"My Lord, I must speak!" said Wormtail, panic in his voice now. "All through our journey I have gone over the plan in my head - my Lord, Bertha Jorkins's disappearance will not go unnoticed for long, and if we proceed, if I curse -"

"If?" whispered Voldemort. "If? If you follow the plan, Wormtail, the Ministry need never know that anyone else has disappeared. You will do it quietly, and without fuss; I only wish that I could do it myself, but in my present condition...come, Wormtail, one more obstacle removed and our path to the girl and Harry Potter is clear. I am not asking you to do it alone. By that time, my faithful servant will have rejoined us -"

"I am a faithful servant," said Wormtail, the merest trace of sullenness in his voice.

"Wormtail, I need somebody with brains, somebody whose loyalty has never wavered, and you, unfortunately, fulfil neither requirement."

"I found you," said Wormtail, and there was definitely a sulky edge to his voice now. "I was the one who found you. I brought you Bertha Jorkins."

"That is true," said Voldemort, sounding amused. "A stroke of brilliance I would not have thought possible from you, Wormtail - though, if truth be told, you were not aware how useful she would be when you caught her, were you?"

"I-I thought she might be useful, my Lord -"

"Liar," said Voldemort again, the cruel amusement more pronounced than ever. "However, I do not deny that her information was invaluable. Without it, I could never have formed our plan, and for that, you will have your reward, Wormtail. I will allow you to perform an essential task for me, one that many of my followers would give their right hands to perform..."

"R-really, my Lord? What -?" Wormtail sounded terrified again.

"Ah, Wormtail, you don't want me to spoil the surprise? Your part will come at the very end...but I promise you, you will have the honour of being just as useful as Bertha Jorkins."

"You...you..." Wormtail's voice sounded suddenly hoarse, as though his mouth had gone very dry. "You...are going...to kill me, too?"

"Wormtail, Wormtail," said the cold voice silkily, "why would I kill you? I killed Bertha because I had to. She was fit for nothing after my questioning, quite useless. In any case, awkward questions would have been asked if she had gone back to the Ministry with the news that she had met you on her holidays. Wizards who are supposed to be dead would do well not to run into Ministry of Magic witches at wayside inns..."

Wormtail muttered something so quietly that I could not hear it, but it made Voldemort laugh - an entirely mirthless laugh, cold as his speech.

"We could have modified her memory? But Memory Charms can be broken by a powerful wizard, as I proved when I questioned her. It would be an insult to her memory not to use the information I extracted from her, Wormtail. One more curse...my faithful servant at Hogwarts...the girl and Harry Potter are as good as mine, Wormtail. It is decided. There will be no more argument. But quiet...I think I hear Nagini..."

And then Voldemort's voice changed. He started making hissing noises but I to me, they sounded like normal speech. I felt my blood freeze as I heard Nagini inform Voldemort about the old man standing outside the door. I had a feeling I knew what would come next and I didn't like it one bit.

Nagini was slithering towards him along the dark corridor floor, her undulating body cutting a wide, curving track through the thick dust on the floor, coming closer and closer - the snake was level with him, and then, incredibly, miraculously, it was passing; it was following Voldemort's cold voice beyond the door, and in seconds, the tip of her diamond-patterned tail had vanished through the gap.

"Nagini has interesting news, Wormtail," Voldemort said, switching back to English.

"In-indeed, my Lord?" said Wormtail.

"Indeed, yes," said the voice. "According to Nagini, there is an old Muggle standing right outside this room, listening to every word we say."

If my eyes hadn't already been closed, I would have shut them tight as I heard footsteps, and then the sound of the door of the room flinging wide open and hitting the opposite wall.

"Invite him inside, Wormtail. Where are your manners?"

The cold voice was coming from the ancient armchair before the fire, but I couldn't actually see Voldemort. Nagini, on the other hand, was curled up on the rotting hearth-rug, like some horrible travesty of a pet dog.

Wormtail beckoned the old man into the room and I watched him limp over the threshold.

The fire was the only source of light in the room; it was casting long, spidery shadows upon the walls. I stared at the back of the armchair; the man inside it seemed to be even smaller than Wormtail, for I couldn't even see the back of his head.

"You heard everything, Muggle?" said the cold voice.

"What's that you're calling me?" said the frightened old man defiantly.

I am calling you a Muggle," said the voice coolly. "It means that you are not a wizard."

"I don't know what you mean by wizard," said the man, his voice growing steadier. "All I know is I've heard enough to interest the police tonight, I have. You've done murder and you're planning more! And I'll tell you this, too," he added, on a sudden inspiration, "my wife knows I'm up here, and if I don't come back -"

"You have no wife," said the cold voice, very quietly. "Nobody knows you are here. You told nobody that you were coming. Do not lie to Lord Voldemort, Muggle, for he knows...he always knows..."

"Is that right?" said the man roughly. "Lord, is it? Well, I don't think much of your manners, my Lord. Turn round and face me like a man, why don't you?"

"But I am not a man, Muggle," said the cold voice, barely audible now over the crackling of the flames. "I am much, much more than a man. However...why not? I will face you...Wormtail, come turn my chair around."

Wormtail gave a whimper.

"You heard me, Wormtail."

Slowly, with his face screwed up, as though he would rather have done anything than approach his master and the hearth-rug where Nagini lay, Wormtail walked forwards and began to turn the chair. The snake lifted her ugly triangular head and hissed slightly as the legs of the chair snagged on the rug.

And then the chair was facing the old man, and he could see what was sitting in it; though my vision was still blocked. His walking stick fell to the floor with a clatter. He opened his mouth and let out a scream. He was screaming so loudly that he never heard the words the thing in the chair spoke, as it raised a wand. There was a flash of green light, a rushing sound, and I watched in horror as the old man crumpled. He was dead before he hit the floor.

I woke with a start as I felt my body roll of the bed and hit the floor of Hermione's room with a loud thump.

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In-line Comments

\- those villagers need to get a life and stop being so quick to judge someone when there's absolutely no evidence that he did anything wrong. I mean come on! Clearly they've never heard of innocent until proven guilty. I hope they were properly shamed when he died; but I doubt they felt much...ugh

\- I love how he totally just told Wormtail that he was gonna be losing his hand without Wormtail knowing he was being completely serious - but he made it sound so honorable. Nothing honorable about what happened!

AN - hope y'all enjoyed this first chapter! Sorry it's a bit short but I did try my best to incorporate Kat into this part without giving anything away to you as the audience as well as to Kat as she sees what's happening. Unfortunately for her, she had to remain in the dark for just a little longer lol - well I guess it depends on your view whether it's unfortunate or a blessing haha


	62. Back to the Burrow

(This and the next chapter will be shorter chapters but don't worry, I'll hopefully be able to post them quicker and once the book starts getting to the interesting parts I'll have some longer chapters for y'all!)

Katrina's POV

I woke up with a scream as the scar on my collar bone blazed white hot. Hermione shot out of bed and stared down at me bleary-eyed.

"Wha-what's going on?" She cried out as she helped me to stand. We went downstairs and made ourselves hot chocolate before going back upstairs to sit on her bed. I told her everything I could remember.

I tried to recall what I had been dreaming about before I had awoken. It had seemed so real...there had been two people I knew, and one I didn't...I concentrated hard, frowning, trying to remember...

The dim picture of a darkened room came to me...there had been a snake on a hearth-rug...a small man called Peter, nicknamed Wormtail...and a cold, high voice...the voice of Lord Voldemort. I felt as though an ice cube had slipped down into my stomach at the very thought...

I closed my eyes tightly and tried to remember what Voldemort had looked like, but it was impossible...all I knew was that at the moment when Voldemort's chair had swung around I had felt a spasm of horror which had awoken me...or had that been the pain in my scar?

And who had the old man been? For there had definitely been an old man; I had watched him fall to the ground. It was all becoming confused; I put my face into my hands, blocking out Hermione's bedroom, trying to hold on to the picture of that dimly lit room, but it was like trying to keep water in my cupped hands; the details were now trickling away as fast as I tried to hold on to them...Voldemort and Wormtail had been talking about someone they had killed, though I could not remember the name...and they had been plotting to kill someone else...Harry!

I took my face out of my hands, opened my eyes and stared at Hermione in fear. I couldn't lose my best friend!

Hermione rubbed her hand in circles on my back as I ran a finger over my scar again. It wasn't the pain that bothered me; I was no stranger to pain and injury. I had been beaten and bruised countless times by the girls at the Orphanage growing up - not to mention falling fifty feet from an airborne broomstick last year - though thankfully, Cedric had been there to catch me. I blushed as I remembered this.

I was used to bizarre accidents and injuries; they were unavoidable if you attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and had a knack for attracting a lot of trouble like Harry and I did!

No, the thing that was bothering me was that the last time my scar had hurt me, it had been because Voldemort had been close by...but Voldemort couldn't be here, now...the idea of Voldemort lurking in the area surrounding Hermione's place was absurd!

"Kat, this is really serious...I think you should write to Professor Dumbledore! And I'll go and check Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions...Maybe there's something in there about curse scars..."

I stared out of the window at the inky, blue-black sky. I doubted very much whether a book could help me now. As far as I knew, Harry and I were the only two living people to have survived a curse like Voldemort's; it was highly unlikely, therefore, that our symptoms would be listed in Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions. As for informing my grandfather, I had no idea where he went during the summer holidays.

I amused myself for a moment, picturing Dumbledore, with his long silver beard, full-length wizard's robes and pointed hat, stretched out on a beach somewhere, rubbing suntan lotion into his long crooked nose. Wherever Dumbledore was, though, I was sure that Salazar would be able to find him; my owl had never yet failed to deliver a letter to anyone, even without an address. But what would I write?

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

Sorry to bother you, but my scar hurt this morning.

Yours sincerely,

Katrina Black.

Even inside my head the words sounded stupid.

I kneaded my forehead with my knuckles. What I really wanted (and it felt almost shameful to admit it to myself) was someone like – someone like a parent: an adult wizard whose advice I could ask without feeling stupid, someone who cared about me, who had had experience of Dark Magic...I was sure Severus might know or maybe Lupin, but for someone reason it just didn't seem like a good option. Lupin had enough problems of his own to deal with and Sev would think I was being silly.

And then the solution came to me. It was so simple, and so obvious, that I. couldn't believe it had taken so long – Sirius. I did have a parent now who I could talk to!

"I know, I'll write to Sirius, Hermione! I'm sure my father will be able to help!"

I leapt up from the bed, hurried across the room and sat down at Hermione's desk; I pulled a piece of parchment towards me, loaded an eagle-feather quill with ink, and wrote:

Dear Father,

\- then paused, wondering how best to phrase my problem, and still marvelling at the fact that I hadn't thought of Sirius straight away. But then, perhaps it wasn't so surprising – after all, I had only found out that Sirius was my father two months ago.

For one glorious hour, Harry and I had believed that he leaving the Dursleys at last and I would be with my father, because Sirius had offered us a home once his name had been cleared. But the chance had been snatched away from us - Wormtail had escaped before we could take him to the Ministry of Magic, and Sirius had had to flee for his life.

Harry, Hermione, and I had helped him escape on the back of a Hippogriff called Buckbeak - who I had been surprised to learn contained a part of my departed mother's spirit inside - and since then, Sirius had been on the run. The home I might have had if Wormtail had not escaped had been haunting me all summer. Fortunately I had Hermione to keep me company and was able to focus on that most of the time.

I had received two letters from Sirius since the summer had started. Both had been delivered, not by owls (as was usual with wizards) but by large, brightly coloured, tropical birds. Salazar had not approved of these flashy intruders; he had been most reluctant to allow them to drink from his water tray before flying off again. I, on the other hand, had liked them; they put me in mind of palm trees and white sand, and I hoped that wherever my father was, (Sirius never said, in case the letters were intercepted) he was enjoying himself. Somehow, I found it hard to imagine Dementors surviving for long in bright sunlight; perhaps that was why Sirius had gone south. Sirius' letters sounded cheerful, and in both of them he had reminded me to call on him if ever I needed to. Well, I needed to now, all right...

Dear Father,

Thanks for your last letter, that bird was enormous, it could hardly get through Hermione's window. Things are great here! Hermione's parents have been ever so kind to me and we spend our time exploring the city or at the park. Did you hear about Harry though? Apparently his cousin's diet isn't going too well. His aunt found that pig smuggling doughnuts into his room yesterday! Hahaha! They told him they'd have to cut his pocket money if he keeps doing it - he's so spoiled! I hope they DO! I'm OK, but a weird thing happened this morning, though. My scar hurt again. Last time that happened it was because Voldemort was at Hogwarts. But I don't reckon he can be anywhere near me now, can he? Do you know if curse scars sometimes hurt years afterwards? I'll send this with Salazar when he gets back, he's off hunting at the moment. Say hello to Buckbeak for me please! I miss him! Did you know a bit of mom's soul is inside him! Grandfather told me at the end of last year! I can't believe it! I feel so bad for not knowing! Do you think she hates me for not being able to work it out earlier?

Katrina

Yes, I thought, that looked all right - a little wordy but if you couldn't ramble to your own father, than who could you ramble to, right? There was no point putting in the dream, I didn't want it to look as though I was too worried. I folded the parchment up and laid it aside on Hermione's desk, ready for when Salazar returned. Then I got to my feet, stretched and opened my trunk. While I had been writing, the sun had come up and it was now time to get dressed before going down to breakfast.

"Surprise!" I blinked in shock as I walked into the kitchen to hear Hermione and her parents shouting excitedly.

"What are you talking about?"

"Katrina! It's you're birthday! Don't tell me you forgot!" Hermione ran over to me and squeezed me tightly.

Whoops, I guess I had! Which means it was also Harry's birthday! Oh my Merlin! As we ate breakfast, I asked Hermione's parents if Hermione and I baked Harry a cake in their kitchen and sent him so food as well - we all knew he wasn't being fed much by the Dursley's! They said it would be ok so Hermione and I spent the afternoon in the kitchen doing our best to bake a cake. It was a little lopsided but it tasted great!

Since I'd sent Salazar off with the note to my father, I called Drake over and asked if he could please deliver Harry's cake along with the a large box stuffed full of sugar-free snacks (Hermione's parents were dentists). Earlier this summer Hermione and I had discovered that Drake could use telepathy to talk to us inside our minds. How cool is that!

That day I received four superb birthday cakes myself, one each from Ron, Hermione and her parent's, Hagrid and my father. Hermione and I put them in the fridge and took the bus down to the park. It was one of the best birthdays I'd ever had, the only one better was when Minnie had shown up with my Hogwarts letter!

The weeks went by as Hermione and I continued to enjoy our time together without the boys. We were sitting on Hermione's bed playing a game of exploding snap when Salazar came flying in through the open windo, a note clamped in his beak. It was from Ron.

Dear Mr and Mrs Granger,

The final of the Quidditch World Cup takes place next Monday night, and my husband, Arthur, has just managed to get prime tickets through his connections at the Department of Magical Games and Sports. I do hope you will allow us to take Kat and Hermione to the match, as this really is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; Britain hasn't hosted the Cup for thirty years and tickets are extremely hard to come by. We would of course be glad to have the two girls stay for the remainder of the summer holidays, and to see them safely onto the train back to school. It would be best for Kat to send us your answer as quickly as possible in the normal way, because the Muggle postman has never delivered to our house, and I am not sure he even knows where it is.

Hoping to see Hermione and Kat soon,

Yours sincerely,

Molly Weasley

P.S. I do hope we've put enough stamps on.

I laughed at the last sentence, they'd definitely added enough stamps! Hermione and I looked at her parents with pleading eyes.

"Please, Mom and Dad, can we go?"

"Of course, dear! Sounds like fun! But you better start getting packed if you want to be ready in time for tomorrow!"

We raced back up to Hermione's room where I jotted down a quick response, gave it to Drake who had returned from delivering Harry's cake, and then joined Hermione as we started throwing our stuff into our trunks.

At twelve o'clock next day, Hermione and I stepped through the fireplace and landed at the Burrow.

"Hermione! Katrina! There you are dears! Fred, George! Come down and help the girls carry their things up to Ginny's room, please!"

I smile at Mrs. Weasley and gave her a quick hug before we were joined by the two red-headed twins.

"Look Georgey! Our princess is back!"

"Come on Freddie, we can't let her strain herself, here m'lady, I'll take that!" I whacked George's head as he grinned, bowed and picked up my trunk. He just laughed and lead the way up the stairs to Ginny's room, where we would be staying.

Hermione, Ginny, and I spent that night laughing and talking as we lay on her bedroom floor. We'd spread some pillows and blankets down and were teaching Ginny how to play Muggle card games.

Before we went to bed, Ron came knocking and told us the good news. Harry would be coming to stay at the Burrow as well! Apparently, Mr. Weasley, Ron, Fred, and George were going to go get him from the Dursley's. I was so excited...and yet...nervous. Should I tell him about the dream I'd had?

On the one hand, he deserved to know that Voldemort might be trying to kill him - AGAIN, but on the other hand, it could have just been simply a dream and nothing more. In which case, they best solution would be to wait until there was more evidence. If there was the slightest hint it might not have just been a dream, then I would tell Harry but not till then. For now, I was going to enjoy the rest of my summer and have fun at the Quidditch World Cup!

********************************************

In-line Comments

\- of course her mother wouldn't hate her i would never write that she does!  
\- she cant write "Dear Grandfather" since he still wants to keep it a secret for her safety  
\- yes she and Harry have the same bday :p - he sends her a mini silver version of Buckbeak (like he did with Drake) to add to her charm bracelet :)


	63. Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes

Katrina's POV

Hermione, Ginny, and I were sitting in her room the next afternoon laughing and talking when we suddenly heard two loud thumps from downstairs.

"That must be the boys arriving back from the Dursley's! I shouted excitedly as I dashed down the stairs with the others in tow. We arrived to see Fred and George helping Harry out of the fireplace.

"Did he eat it?" said Fred excitedly, holding out a hand to pull Harry to his feet.

"Yeah," said Harry, straightening up.

"Harry!" I cried out and ran over to my best friend and hugged him tightly.

"Kat! I'm so happy to...to...to see you!"

"What's wrong, Harry?" I asked as he looked and me and started stuttering.

"Nothing, you just...look a little different...um...I mean...you must have gotten taller or something." Harry blushed and turned to look at the twins. "So what was it that you gave to Dudley?"

"Ton-Tongue Toffee," said Fred brightly. "George and I invented them, we've been looking for someone to test them on all summer..."

The tiny kitchen exploded with laughter; I saw Harry look around and spot Bill and Charlie, the two eldest Weasley brothers.

"How're you doing, Harry?" said Charlie, grinning at him and holding out a large hand, which Harry shook.

Bill got to his feet, smiling, and also shook Harry's hand.

Before any of us could say anything else, there was a faint popping noise, and Mr Weasley appeared out of thin air at George's shoulder. He was looking angrier than I had ever seen him.

"That wasn't funny, Fred!" he shouted. "What on earth did you give that Muggle boy?"

"I didn't give him anything," said Fred, with another evil grin. "I just dropped it...it was his fault he went and ate it, I never told him to."

"You dropped it on purpose!" roared Mr Weasley. "You knew he'd eat it, you knew he was on a diet -"

"How big did his tongue get?" George asked eagerly.

"It was four foot long before his parents would let me shrink it!"

We all roared with laughter again. It was about time someone got back at Harry's horrible cousin!

"It isn't funny!" Mr Weasley shouted. "That sort of behaviour seriously undermines wizard–Muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of Muggles, and my own sons –"

"We didn't give it to him because he was a Muggle!' said Fred indignantly.

"No, we gave it to him because he's a great bullying git," said George. "Isn't he, Harry?"

"Yeah, he is, Mr Weasley," said Harry earnestly.

"That's not the point!" raged Mr Weasley. "You wait until I tell your mother –"

"Tell me what?'" said a voice behind us.

Mrs Weasley had just entered the kitchen. She was a short, plump woman with a very kind face, though her eyes were presently narrowed with suspicion.

"Oh, hello, Harry dear," she said, spotting him and smiling. Then her eyes snapped back to her husband. "Tell me what, Arthur?"

Mr Weasley hesitated. I could tell that, however angry he was with Fred and George, he hadn't really intended to tell Mrs Weasley what had happened. There was a silence, while Mr Weasley eyed his wife nervously. In the silence, I saw Harry glance at Ginny and smile in greeting, which made her go scarlet – apparently she had been very taken with Harry ever since his first visit to the Burrow. I frowned at this, something about it turning my stomach over but I put it from my mind as Mrs. Weasley spoke again.

"Tell me what, Arthur?" She repeated, in a dangerous sort of voice.

"It's nothing, Molly," mumbled Mr Weasley, "Fred and George just – but I've had words with them –"

"What have they done this time?" said Mrs Weasley. "If it's got anything to do with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes –"

"Why don't you show Harry where he's sleeping, Ron?" said Hermione.

"He knows where he's sleeping," said Ron. "In my room, he slept there last –"

"We can all go," said Hermione, pointedly.

"Oh," said Ron, finally catching on. "Right."

"Yeah, we'll come, too," said George –

"You stay where you are!" snarled Mrs Weasley.

Harry and Ron edged out of the kitchen, and Hermione, Ginny, and I followed them along the narrow hallway and up the rickety staircase that zig-zagged through the house to the upper stories.

"What are Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?' Harry and I asked, as we climbed.

"Jinx!" I shouted happily as I punched his arm. It had been so long since I had been able to do that! Harry sent me a sideways grin as he held his hands up in surrender.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all laughed as we waited for Ron to explain.

"Mum found this stack of order forms when she was cleaning Fred and George's room," said Ron quietly. "Great long price-lists for stuff they've invented. Joke stuff, you know. Fake wands and trick sweets, loads of stuff. It was brilliant, I never knew they'd been inventing all that..."

"We've been hearing explosions out of their room for ages, but we never thought they were actually making things," said Ginny, "we thought they just liked the noise."

"Only, most of the stuff – well, all of it, really – was a bit dangerous," said Ron, "and, you know, they were planning to sell it at Hogwarts to make some money, and Mum got mad at them. Told them they weren't allowed to make any more of it, and burnt all the order forms...she's furious at them anyway. They didn't get as many OWLs as she expected."

OWLs were Ordinary Wizarding Levels, the examinations Hogwarts students took at the age of fifteen.

"And then there was this big row," Ginny said, "because Mum wants them to go into the Ministry of Magic like Dad, and they told her all they want to do is open a joke-shop."

Just then, a door on the second landing opened, and a face poked out wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a very annoyed expression.

"Hi, Percy," said Harry.

"Oh, hello, Harry," said Percy. "I was wondering who was making all the noise. I'm trying to work in here, you know – I've got a report to finish for the office – and it's rather difficult to concentrate when people keep thundering up and down the stairs."

"We're not thundering," said Ron irritably. "We're walking. Sorry if we've disturbed the top-secret workings of the Ministry of Magic."

"What are you working on?" said Harry.

"A report for the Department of International Magical Co-operation," said Percy smugly. "We're trying to standardise cauldron thickness. Some of these foreign imports are just a shade too thin – leakages have been increasing at a rate of almost three per cent a year –"

"Um, that sounds...um, interesting, Percy," I said, trying to be kind. Percy looked at me and gave me a rare smile.

"That'll change the world, that report will," said Ron. "Front page of the Daily Prophet, I expect, cauldron leaks."

Percy went slightly pink.

"You might sneer, Ron," he said heatedly, "but unless some sort of international law is imposed we might well find the market flooded with flimsy, shallow-bottomed products which seriously endanger –"

"Yeah, yeah, all right," said Ron, and he started off upstairs again. Percy slammed his bedroom door shut. As we followed Ron up three more flights of stairs, shouts from the kitchen below echoed up to us. It sounded as though Mr Weasley had told Mrs Weasley about the toffees.

The room at the top of the house where Ron slept looked very similar to his side of the Gryffindor dorm room at Hogwarts. Posters of Ron's favourite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, were whirling and waving on the walls and sloping ceiling, and the fishtank on the window-sill which had previously held frog-spawn now contained one extremely large frog. Ron's old rat, Scabbers, was here no more, but instead there was the tiny grey owl that had delivered Sirius's letter to Harry and I on the train at the end of last year. It was hopping up and down in a small cage, and twittering madly.

"Shut up, Pig," said Ron, edging his way between two of the four beds that had been squeezed into the room. "Fred and George are in here with us, because Bill and Charlie are in their room," he told Harry. "Percy gets to keep his room all to himself because he's got to work."

"Er – why are you calling that owl Pig?" Harry asked Ron.

"Because he's being stupid," said Ginny. "Its proper name is Pigwidgeon."

"Yeah, and that's not a stupid name at all,!" said Ron sarcastically. "Ginny named him," he explained to Harry. "She reckons it's sweet. And I tried to change it, but it was too late, he won't answer to anything else. So now he's Pig. I've got to keep him up here because he annoys Errol and Hermes. He annoys me, too, come to that."

Pigwidgeon zoomed happily around his cage, hooting shrilly. I knew Ron too well to take him seriously. He had moaned continually about his old rat Scabbers, but had been most upset when Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, appeared to have eaten him.

"Where's Crookshanks and Drake?" Harry asked Hermione and I.

"Out in the garden, I expect," she said. "They like chasing gnomes, they've never seen any before."

"Percy's enjoying work, then?" said Harry, sitting down on one of the beds and watching the Chudley Cannons zooming in and out of the posters on the ceiling.

"Enjoying it?" said Ron darkly. "I don't reckon he'd come home if Dad didn't make him. He's obsessed. Just don't get him onto the subject of his boss. According to Mr Crouch...as I was saying to Mr Crouch...Mr Crouch is of the opinion...Mr Crouch was telling me...They'll be announcing their engagement any day now."

I laughed as I sat down next to Harry, who looked at me with wide eyes as his cheeks flushed. "Have you had a good summer, Harry? Did you get our food parcels and everything?"

"Yeah, thanks a lot," said Harry. "They saved my life, those cakes! Did you like your birthday present?"

"I loved it! Thank you Harry! It looks just like Buckbeak!"

"I know. I was hoping that it might remind you of him since I couldn't exactly bring you the real Buckbeak..."

I hugged Harry tightly, not seeing his cheeks grow even redder.

"Speaking of Buckbeak, have you heard from –?" Ron began, but at a look from Hermione he fell silent. I knew Ron had been about to ask about Sirius. Ron and Hermione had been so deeply involved in helping Sirius escape from the Ministry of Magic that they were almost as concerned about my father as Harry and I were. However, discussing him in front of Ginny was a bad idea. Nobody but ourselves and Professor Dumbledore knew about how Sirius had escaped, or believed in his innocence.

"I think they've stopped arguing," said Hermione, to cover the awkward moment, because Ginny was looking curiously from Ron to Harry. "Shall we go down and help your mum with dinner?"

"Yeah, all right," said Ron. The five of us left Ron's room and went back downstairs, to find Mrs Weasley alone in the kitchen, looking extremely bad-tempered.

"We're eating out in the garden," she said when we came in. "There's just not room for eleven people in here. Could you take the plates outside, girls? Bill and Charlie are setting up the tables. Knives and forks, please, you two," she said to Ron and Harry, pointing her wand a little more vigorously than she had intended at a pile of potatoes in the sink, which shot out of their skins so fast that they ricocheted off the walls and ceilings.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," she snapped, now directing her wand at a dustpan, which hopped off the side and started skating across the floor, scooping up the potatoes. "Those two!" she burst out savagely, now pulling pots and pans out of a cupboard, and I knew she meant Fred and George. "I don't know what's going to happen to them, I really don't. No ambition, unless you count making as much trouble as they possibly can..."

She slammed a large copper saucepan down on the kitchen table and began to wave her wand around inside it. A creamy sauce poured from the wand tip as she stirred.

"It's not as though they haven't got brains," she continued irritably, taking the saucepan over to the stove and lighting it with a further poke of her wand, "but they're wasting them, and unless they pull themselves together soon, they'll be in real trouble. I've had more owls from Hogwarts about them than the rest put together. If they carry on the way they're going, they'll end up in front of the Improper Use of Magic Office."

Mrs Weasley jabbed her wand at the cutlery drawer, which shot open. Harry and Ron both jumped out of the way as several knives soared out of it, flew across the kitchen and began chopping the potatoes, which had just been tipped back into the sink by the dustpan.

"I don't know where we went wrong with them," said Mrs Weasley, putting down her wand and starting to pull out still more saucepans. "It's been the same for years, one thing after another, and they won't listen to – OH, NOT AGAIN!"

She had picked up her wand from the table, and it had emitted a loud squeak and turned into a giant rubber mouse.

"One of their fake wands again!" she shouted. "How many times have I told those two not to leave them lying around?"

She grabbed her real wand and turned around to find that the sauce on the stove was smoking.

"C'mon," Ron said hurriedly to us, seizing a handful of cutlery from the open drawer, "let's go and help Bill and Charlie."

We left Mrs Weasley, and headed out of the back door into the yard.

We had only gone a few paces when Hermione's bandy-legged, ginger cat Crookshanks and Drake came pelting out of the garden, chasing what looked like a muddy potato on legs. I giggled as I recognised it instantly as a gnome. Barely ten inches high, its horny little feet pattered very fast as it sprinted across the yard and dived headlong into one of the wellington boots that lay scattered around the door. I could hear the gnome chuckling madly as Crookshanks and Drake inserted a paw and a claw into the boot, trying to reach it. Meanwhile, a very loud crashing noise was coming from the other side of the house. The source of the commotion was revealed as we entered the garden and saw that Bill and Charlie both had their wands out, and were making two battered old tables fly high above the lawn, smashing into each other, each attempting to knock the other's out of the air. Fred and George were cheering and Ginny was laughing.

Bill's table caught Charlie's with a huge bang, and knocked one of its legs off. There was a clatter from overhead, and we all looked up to see Percy's head poking out of a window on the second floor.

"Will you keep it down?" he bellowed.

"Sorry, Perce," said Bill, grinning. "How're the cauldron bottoms coming on?"

"Very badly," said Percy peevishly, and he slammed the window shut again. Chuckling, Bill and Charlie directed the tables safely onto the grass, end to end, and then, with a flick of his wand, Bill reattached the table leg, and conjured tablecloths from nowhere.

By seven o'clock, the two tables were groaning under dishes and dishes of Mrs Weasley's excellent cooking, and the nine Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, and I were settling ourselves down to eat beneath a clear, deep-blue sky. I listened rather than talked, as I helped myself to chicken-and-ham pie, boiled potatoes and salad.

At the far end of the table, Percy was telling his father all about his report on cauldron bottoms.

"I've told Mr Crouch that I'll have it ready by Tuesday," Percy was saying pompously. "That's a bit sooner than he expected it, but I like to keep on top of things. I think he'll be grateful I've done it in good time. I mean, it's extremely busy in our department just now, what with all the arrangements for the World Cup. We're just not getting the support we need from the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Ludo Bagman –"

"I like Ludo," said Mr Weasley mildly. "He was the one who got us such good tickets for the Cup. I did him a bit of a favour: his brother, Otto, got into a spot of trouble – a lawnmower with unnatural powers – I smoothed the whole thing over."

"Oh, Bagman's likeable enough, of course ," said Percy dismissively, "but how he ever got to be Head of Department...when I compare him to Mr Crouch! I can't see Mr Crouch losing a member of our department and not trying to find out what's happened to them. You realise Bertha Jorkins has been missing for over a month now? Went on holiday to Albania and never came back?" My brows furrowed as I tried to remember where I'd heard that name before. It sounded familiar.

"Yes, I was asking Ludo about that," said Mr Weasley, frowning. "He says Bertha's got lost plenty of times before now – though I must say, if it was someone in my department, I'd be worried..."

"Oh, Bertha's hopeless, all right,"said Percy. "I hear she's been shunted from department to department for years, much more trouble than she's worth...but all the same, Bagman ought to be trying to find her. Mr Crouch has been taking a personal interest – she worked in our department at one time, you know, and I think Mr Crouch was quite fond of her – but Bagman just keeps laughing and saying she probably misread the map and ended up in Australia instead of Albania. However," Percy heaved an impressive sigh, and took a deep swig of elderflower wine, "we've got quite enough on our plates at the Department of International Magical Co-operation without trying to find members of other departments too. As you know, we've got another big event to organise right after the World Cup."

He cleared his throat significantly and looked down towards the end of the table where Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I were sitting. "You know the one I'm talking about, Father." He raised his voice slightly. "The top-secret one.'"

Ron rolled his eyes and muttered to Harry, Hermione, and I. "He's been trying to get us to ask what that event is ever since he started work. Probably an exhibition of thick-bottomed cauldrons."

In the middle of the table, Mrs Weasley was arguing with Bill about his earring, which seemed to be a recent acquisition.

"...with a horrible great fang on it, really, Bill, what do they say at the bank?"

"Mum, no one at the bank gives a damn how I dress as long as I bring home plenty of treasure," said Bill patiently.

"And your hair's getting silly, dear," said Mrs Weasley, fingering her wand lovingly. "I wish you'd let me give it a trim..."

"I like it," said Ginny, who was sitting beside Bill. "You're so old-fashioned, Mum. Anyway, it's nowhere near as long as Professor Dumbledore's..."

Next to Mrs Weasley, Fred, George and Charlie were all talking spiritedly about the World Cup.

"It's got to be Ireland," said Charlie thickly, through a mouthful of potato. "They flattened Peru in the semi-finals."

"Bulgaria have got Viktor Krum, though," said Fred.

"Krum's one decent player, Ireland have got seven," said Charlie shortly. "I wish England had got through, though. That was embarrassing, that was."

"What happened?" said Harry and I eagerly, regretting more than ever our isolation from the wizarding world. We both loved Quidditch. We had played as Seeker and Chaser on the Gryffindor house Quidditch team ever since our first year at Hogwarts and owned Firebolts, one of the best racing brooms in the world.

"Went down to Transylvania, three hundred and ninety to ten," said Charlie gloomily. "Shocking performance. And Wales lost to Uganda, and Scotland were slaughtered by Luxembourg."

Mr Weasley conjured up candles to light the darkening garden before we had pudding (home-made strawberry ice-cream), and by the time we had finished, moths were fluttering low over the table and the warm air was perfumed with the smells of grass and honeysuckle. I was feeling extremely well fed and at peace with the world as I rested my head on Harry's shoulder and watched several gnomes sprinting through the rose bushes, laughing madly and closely pursued by Crookshanks and Drake.

Ron looked carefully up the table to check that the rest of the family were all busy talking, then he said very quietly to Harry and I. "So – have you heard from Sirius lately?"

Hermione looked round, listening closely. She of course, knew about my contact with my father and we both knew he must have also contacted Harry.

"Yeah," said Harry softly, "twice. He sounds OK. I wrote to him the day before yesterday. He might write back while I'm here." I smiled as I remembered my own letter and that I might also be getting a response soon!

"Look at the time," Mrs Weasley said suddenly, checking her wristwatch. "You really should be in bed, the whole lot of you, you'll be up at the crack of dawn to get to the Cup. Harry, if you leave your school list out, I'll get your things for you tomorrow in Diagon Alley. I'm getting everyone else's. There might not be time after the World Cup, the match went on for five days last time.'

"Wow – hope it does this time!" said Harry and I enthusiastically.

"Well, I certainly don't," said Percy sanctimoniously. "I shudder to think what the state of my in-tray would be if I was away from work for five days."

"Yeah, someone might slip dragon dung in it again, eh, Perce?" said Fred.

"That was a sample of fertiliser from Norway!" said Percy, going very red in the face. "It was nothing personal!"

"It was," Fred whispered to Harry and I, as they got up from the table. "We sent it."

I laughed and followed Hermione and Ginny back upstairs where we promptly fell asleep.

********************************************

In-line Comments

\- aww poor Harry haha like he needed any further reason to love Kat - if it's not clear, she's starting to go through puberty/also her "charming" powers that she inherited from her father are also growing so unfortunately she's gonna be getting a lot more attention this year whether she wants it or not :p  
\- aww how sweet! Hopefully the Buckbeak charm will help a little till she can reunite with him/her :)  
\- hehehe looks like Crookshanks and Drake are having fun!


	64. The Portkey

Katrina's POV

I felt as though I had barely lain down to sleep in Ginny's room when I was being shaken awake by Mrs Weasley.

'Time to go, Katrina, dear,' she whispered, moving away to wake Hermione and Ginny.

It was still dark outside. Ginny muttered indistinctly as her mother roused her.

We dressed in silence, too sleepy to talk, then, yawning and stretching, the three of us headed downstairs into the kitchen.

Mrs Weasley was stirring the contents of a large pot on the stove, while Mr Weasley was sitting at the table, checking a sheaf of large parchment tickets. He looked up as we entered, and spread his arms so that we could see his clothes more clearly. He was wearing what appeared to be a golfing jumper and a very old pair of jeans, slightly too big for him and held up with a thick leather belt.

"What d'you think?' he asked anxiously. "We're supposed to go incognito – do I look like a Muggle, Katrina, Hermione?"

"Yeah," I said, smiling, "very good."

"Where're Bill and Charlie and Per–Per–Percy?" said George, failing to stifle a huge yawn as he, Fred, and Harry walked into the kitchen.

"Well, they're Apparating, aren't they?" said Mrs Weasley, heaving the large pot over to the table and starting to ladle porridge into bowls. "So they can have a bit of a lie-in."

I knew that Apparating was very difficult; it meant disappearing from one place and reappearing almost instantly in another.

"So they're still in bed?' said Fred grumpily, pulling his bowl of porridge towards him. "Why can't we Apparate, too?"

"Because you're not of age and you haven't had your test," snapped Mrs Weasley.

"You have to pass a test to Apparate?" Harry asked.

"Oh yes," said Mr Weasley, tucking the tickets safely into the back pocket of his jeans. "The Department of Magical Transportation had to fine a couple of people the other day for Apparating without a licence. It's not easy, Apparition, and when it's not done properly it can lead to nasty complications. This pair I'm talking about went and splinched themselves."

Everyone around the table except Harry winced. I shivered at the thought, it was supposed to be very painful!

"Er – splinched?" said Harry.

"They left half of themselves behind,' said Mr Weasley, now spooning large amounts of treacle onto his porridge. "So, of course, they were stuck. Couldn't move either way. Had to wait for the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad to sort them out. Meant a fair old bit of paperwork, I can tell you, what with the Muggles who spotted the body parts they'd left behind..."

"Were they OK?" he asked, startled.

"Oh yes," said Mr Weasley matter-of-factly. "But they got a heavy fine, and I don't think they'll be trying it again in a hurry. You don't mess around with Apparition. There are plenty of adult wizards who don't bother with it. Prefer brooms – slower, but safer."

"But Bill and Charlie and Percy can all do it?"

"Charlie had to take the test twice," said Fred, grinning. "He failed first time, Apparated five miles south of where he meant to, right on top of some poor old dear doing her shopping, remember?"

"Yes, well, he passed second time," said Mrs Weasley, amid hearty sniggers.

"Percy only passed two weeks ago," said George. "He's been Apparating downstairs every morning since, just to prove he can."

"Why do we have to be up so early?" Ginny said, rubbing her eyes as she ate her porridge.

"We've got a bit of a walk," said Mr Weasley.

"Walk?' said Harry. "What, are we walking to the World Cup?"

"No, no, that's miles away," said Mr Weasley, smiling. "We only need to walk a short way. It's just that it's very difficult for a large number of wizards to congregate without attracting Muggle attention. We have to be very careful about how we travel at the best of times, and on a huge occasion like the Quidditch World Cup –"

"George!" said Mrs Weasley sharply, and we all jumped.

"What?" said George, in an innocent tone that deceived nobody.

"What is that in your pocket?"

"Nothing!"

"Don't you lie to me!"

Mrs Weasley pointed her wand at George's pocket and said, "Accio!"

Several small, brightly coloured objects zoomed out of George's pocket; he made a grab for them but missed, and they sped right into Mrs Weasley's outstretched hand.

"We told you to destroy them!" said Mrs Weasley furiously, holding up what were unmistakeably more Ton-Tongue Toffees. "We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!"

It was an unpleasant scene; the twins had evidently been trying to smuggle as many toffees out of the house as possible, and it was only by using her Summoning Charm that Mrs Weasley managed to find them all.

"Accio! Accio! Accio!" she shouted, and toffees zoomed from all sorts of unlikely places, including the lining of George's jacket and the turn-ups of Fred's jeans.

"We spent six months developing those!" Fred shouted at his mother, as she threw the toffees away.

"Oh, a fine way to spend six months!" she shrieked. "No wonder you didn't get more O.W.Ls!"

All in all, the atmosphere was not very friendly as we made our departure. Mrs Weasley was still glowering as she kissed Mr Weasley on the cheek, though not nearly as much as the twins, who had each hoisted their rucksacks onto their backs and walked out without a word to her.

"Well, have a lovely time," said Mrs Weasley, "and behave yourselves," she called after the twins' retreating backs, but they did not look back or answer. "I'll send Bill, Charlie and Percy along around midday," Mrs Weasley said to Mr Weasley, as he, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and I set off across the dark yard after Fred and George.

It was chilly and the moon was still out. Only a dull, greenish tinge along the horizon to our right showed that daybreak was drawing closer. Harry walked next to me and wrapped his arms around me to protect against the cold. I blushed but did nothing to remove his hands. They felt so warm and heated me straight down to my toes.

"So how does everyone get there without all the Muggles noticing?" he asked Mr Weasley.

"It's been a massive organisational problem," sighed Mr Weasley. "The trouble is, about a hundred thousand wizards turn up to the World Cup, and of course we just haven't got a magical site big enough to accommodate them all. There are places Muggles can't penetrate, but imagine trying to pack a hundred thousand wizards into Diagon Alley or platform nine and three-quarters. So we had to find a nice deserted moor, and set up as many anti-Muggle precautions as possible. The whole Ministry's been working on it for months. Firstly, of course, we have to stagger the arrivals. People with cheaper tickets have to arrive two weeks beforehand. A limited number use Muggle transport, but we can't have too many clogging up their buses and trains – remember, wizards are coming from all over the world. Some Apparate, of course, but we have to set up safe points for them to appear, well away from Muggles. I believe there's a handy wood they're using as the Apparition point. For those who don't want to Apparate, or can't, we use Portkeys. They're objects that are used to transport wizards from one spot to another at a prearranged time. You can do large groups at a time if you need to. There have been two hundred Portkeys placed at strategic points around Britain, and the nearest one to us is up the top of Stoatshead Hill, so that's where we're headed."

Mr Weasley pointed ahead of us, where a large black mass rose beyond the village of Ottery St Catchpole.

"What sort of objects are Portkeys?" I asked curiously.

"Well, they can be anything," said Mr Weasley. "Unobtrusive things, obviously, so Muggles don't go picking them up and playing with them...stuff they'll just think is litter..."

We trudged down the dark, dank lane towards the village, the silence broken only by our footsteps. The sky lightened very slowly as we made our way through the village, its inky blackness diluting to deepest blue. Despite Harry's warm touch, my hands and feet were freezing. Mr Weasley kept checking his watch.

We didn't have breath to spare for talking as we began to climb Stoatshead Hill, stumbling occasionally in hidden rabbit holes, slipping on thick black tuffets of grass. Each breath I took was sharp in my chest, and my legs were starting to seize up when at last my feet found level ground.

"Whew," panted Mr Weasley, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his sweater. "Well, we've made good time – we've got ten minutes..."

Hermione came over the crest of the hill last, clutching a stitch in her side.

"Now we just need the Portkey," said Mr Weasley, replacing his glasses and squinting around at the ground. "It won't be big...come on..."

We spread out, searching. We had only been at it for a couple of minutes, however, when a shout rent the still air.

"Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it!"

Two tall figures were silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop.

"Amos!" said Mr Weasley, smiling as he strode over to the man who had shouted. The rest of us followed.

Mr Weasley was shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who was holding a mouldy-looking old boot in his other hand.

"This is Amos Diggory, everyone," said Mr Weasley. "Works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"

Cedric Diggory was an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen. He was captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff house Quidditch team at Hogwarts.

"Hi," said Cedric, looking around at us all. "Hello, Kat! Wow! You um...you look great!"

"Thanks, Ced," I said blushing as everybody said 'Hi' back except Fred and George, who merely nodded. They had never quite forgiven Cedric for beating our team, Gryffindor, in the first Quidditch match of the previous year.

"Long walk, Arthur?" Cedric's father asked.

"Not too bad," said Mr Weasley. "We live just on the other side of the village there. You?"

"Had to get up at two, didn't we, Ced? I tell you, I'll be glad when he's got his Apparition test. Still...not complaining...Quidditch World Cup, wouldn't miss it for a sackful of Galleons – and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, looks like I got off easy..." Amos Diggory peered good-naturedly around at the three Weasley boys, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and I. "All these yours, Arthur?"

"Oh, no, only the redheads," said Mr Weasley, pointing out his children. "This is Hermione, friend of Ron's – and Harry and Katrina, two more friends –"

"Merlin's beard," said Amos Diggory, his eyes widening. "Harry? Harry Potter?"

"Er – yeah," said Harry as his cheeks reddened. I thanked the universe for the millionth time that my scar wasn't as visible as Harry's - I didn't have to worry about people looking at me curiously like they did with Harry.

"Ced's talked about you, of course," said Amos Diggory. "Told us all about playing against you and Katrina last year...I said to him, I said – Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will...you beat Harry Potter!"

"Harry and Katrina fell off their broom, Dad," he muttered. "I told you...it was an accident..."

"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you? Though I can certainly see why you rescued the girl! So nice to meet you, Katrina! My son never stops talking about you!" roared Amos genially, slapping his son on his back. 'Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman...but the best man won, I'm sure Harry'd say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don't need to be a genius to tell which one's the better flier!"

"You talk about me?" I felt my face go red as I looked at Cedric.

"Of course I talk about you, princess!"

"Must be nearly time," said Mr Weasley quickly, pulling out his watch again. "Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Amos?"

"No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets," said Mr Diggory. "There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?"

"Not that I know of," said Mr Weasley. "Yes, it's a minute off...we'd better get ready..."

He looked around at Harry, Hermione, and I. "You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do –"

With difficulty, owing to the bulky backpacks, the ten of us crowded around the old boot held out by Amos Diggory.

We all stood there, in a tight circle, as a chill breeze swept over the hilltop. Nobody spoke. It suddenly occurred to me how odd this would look if a Muggle were to walk up here now...ten people, two grown men, clutching this manky old boot in the semi-darkness, waiting...

"Three..." muttered Mr Weasley, one eye still on his watch, "two...one..."

It happened immediately: I felt as though a hook just behind my navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forwards. My feet had left the ground; I could feel Cedric and Hermione on either side of me, their shoulders banging into mine; we were all speeding forwards in a howl of wind and swirling colour; my forefinger was stuck to the boot as though it was pulling me magnetically onwards and then –

My feet slammed into the ground; Hermione staggered into me and I fell over; the Portkey hit the ground near my head with a heavy thud.

I looked up. Mr Weasley, Mr Diggory and Cedric were still standing, though looking very windswept; everybody else was on the ground.

"Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill," said a voice as Cedric reached down and carefully helped me up.

*******************************************

In-line Comments

\- once again sorry for the short chapters, just easier to go along with the books format and these ones are shorter lol  
\- awww, Harry and Kat are so cute together  
\- but wait, so are Kat and Cedric, hmm who will win? Or will there be someone else? Hehe


	65. Bagman & Crouch

Harry's POV

I disentangled myself from Ron and got to my feet. We had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted stretch of misty moor. In front of us was a pair of tired and grumpy-looking wizards, one of whom was holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill. Both were dressed as Muggles, though very inexpertly; the man with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes; his colleague, a kilt and a poncho.

"Morning, Basil," said Mr Weasley, picking up the boot and handing it to the kilted wizard, who threw it into a large box of used Portkeys beside him; I could see an old newspaper, an empty drinks can and a punctured football.

"Hello there, Arthur," said Basil wearily. "Not on duty, eh? It's all right for some...we've been here all night...you'd better get out of the way, we've got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five fifteen. Hang on, I'll find your campsite...Weasley... Weasley..." He consulted his parchment list. "About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to. Site manager's called Mr Roberts. Diggory...second field...ask for Mr Payne.'

"Thanks, Basil," said Mr Weasley, and he beckoned everyone to follow him.

We set off across the deserted moor, unable to make out much through the mist. After about twenty minutes, a small stone cottage next to a gate swam into view. Beyond it, I could just make out the ghostly shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents, rising up the gentle slope of a large field towards a dark wood on the horizon. We said goodbye to the Diggorys, and I clamped my jaws together as I watched Cedric give Kat a long hug before taking off to follow his father as we approached the cottage door.

A man was standing in the doorway, looking out at the tents. I knew at a glance that this was the only real Muggle for several acres. When he heard our footsteps, he turned his head to look at us.

"Morning!" said Mr Weasley brightly.

"Morning," said the Muggle.

"Would you be Mr Roberts?"

"Aye, I would," said Mr Roberts. "And who're you?"

"Weasley – two tents, booked a couple of days ago?"

"Aye," said Mr Roberts, consulting a list tacked to the door. "You've got a space up by the wood there. Just the one night?"

"That's it," said Mr Weasley.

"You'll be paying now, then?"!said Mr Roberts.

"Ah – right – certainly –" said Mr Weasley. He retreated a short distance from the cottage and beckoned me towards him. "Help me, Harry,"!he muttered, pulling a roll of Muggle money from his pocket and starting to peel the notes apart. "This one's a – a – a ten? Ah yes, I see the little number on it now...so this is a five?"

"A twenty," I corrected him in an undertone, uncomfortably aware of Mr Roberts trying to catch every word.

"Ah yes, so it is...I don't know, these little bits of paper..."

"You foreign?" said Mr Roberts, as Mr Weasley returned with the correct notes.

"Foreign?" repeated Mr Weasley, puzzled.

"You're not the first one who's had trouble with money," said Mr Roberts, scrutinising Mr Weasley closely. "I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago."

"Did you really?" said Mr Weasley nervously.

Mr Roberts rummaged around in a tin for some change.

"Never been this crowded," he said suddenly, looking out over the misty field again. "Hundreds of pre-bookings. People usually just turn up..."

"Is that right?" said Mr Weasley, his hand held out for his change, but Mr Roberts didn't give it to him.

"Aye,"!he said thoughtfully. "People from all over. Loads of foreigners. And not just foreigners. Weirdos, you know? There's a bloke walking round in a kilt and a poncho."

"Shouldn't he?" said Mr Weasley anxiously.

"It's like some sort of...I dunno...like some sort of rally," said Mr Roberts. "They all seem to know each other. Like a big party."

At that moment, a wizard in plus-fours appeared out of thin air next to Mr Roberts's front door.

"Obliviate!" he said sharply, pointing his wand at Mr Roberts.

Instantly, Mr Roberts's eyes slid out of focus, his brows unknitted and a look of dreamy unconcern fell over his face.

I recognised the symptoms of one who had just had his memory modified.

"A map of the campsite for you," Mr Roberts said placidly to Mr Weasley. "And your change."

"Thanks very much," said Mr Weasley.

The wizard in plus-fours accompanied us towards the gate to the campsite. He looked exhausted; his chin was blue with stubble and there were deep purple shadows under his eyes. Once out of earshot of Mr Roberts, he muttered to Mr Weasley, "Been having a lot of trouble with him. Needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy. And Ludo Bagman's not helping. Trotting around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, not a worry about anti-Muggle security. Blimey, I'll be glad when this is over. See you later, Arthur."

He Disapparated.

"I thought Mr Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sports?" said Kat, looking surprised. "He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, shouldn't he?"

"He should," said Mr Weasley, smiling, and leading us through the gates into the campsite, "but Ludo's always been a bit...well...lax about security. You couldn't wish for a more enthusiastic Head of the Sports Department, though. He played Quidditch for England himself, you know. And he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had."

We trudged up the misty field between long rows of tents. Most looked almost ordinary; their owners had clearly tried to make them as Muggle-like as possible, but had slipped up by adding chimneys, or bell-pulls, or weather-vanes. However, here and there was a tent so obviously magical that I could hardly be surprised that Mr Roberts was getting suspicious. Halfway up the field stood an extravagant confection of striped silk like a miniature palace, with several live peacocks tethered at the entrance. A little further on we passed a tent that had three floors and several turrets; and a short way beyond that was a tent which had a front garden attached, complete with birdbath, sundial and fountain.

"Always the same," said Mr Weasley, smiling, "we can't resist showing off when we get together. Ah, here we are, look, this is us."

We had reached the very edge of the wood at the top of the field, and here was an empty space, with a small sign hammered into the ground that read "Weezly".

"Couldn't have a better spot!" said Mr Weasley happily. "The pitch is just on the other side of the wood there, we're as close as we could be." He hoisted his backpack from his shoulders. "Right," he said excitedly, "no magic allowed, strictly speaking, not when we're out in these numbers on Muggle land. We'll be putting these tents up by hand! Shouldn't be too difficult...Muggles do it all the time...here, Harry, where do you reckon we should start?"

I had never been camping in my life; the Dursleys had never taken me on any kind of holiday, preferring to leave me with Mrs Figg, an old neighbour. However, Kat, Hermione, and I worked out where most of the poles and pegs should go, and though Mr Weasley was more of a hindrance than a help, because he got thoroughly over-excited when it came to using the mallet, we finally managed to erect a pair of shabby two-man tents.

All of us stood back to admire our handiwork. Nobody looking at these tents would guess they belonged to wizards, I thought, but the trouble was that once Bill, Charlie and Percy arrived, we would be a party of ten. Hermione and Kat seemed to have spotted this problem, too; they gave me quizzical looks as Mr Weasley dropped to his hands and knees and entered the first tent.

"We'll be a bit cramped," he called, "but I think we'll all squeeze in. Come and have a look."

I bent down, ducked under the tent flap, and felt my jaw drop. I had walked into what looked like an old-fashioned, three-roomed flat, complete with bathroom and kitchen. Oddly enough, it was furnished in exactly the same sort of style as Mrs Figg's; there were crocheted covers on the mismatched chairs, and a strong smell of cats.

"Well, it's not for long," said Mr Weasley, mopping his bald patch with a handkerchief and peering in at the four bunk beds that stood in the bedroom. "I borrowed this from Perkins at the office. Doesn't camp much any more, poor fellow, he's got lumbago."

He picked up the dusty kettle and peered inside it. "We'll need water..."

"There's a tap marked on this map the Muggle gave us," said Ron, who had followed me inside the tent, and seemed completely unimpressed by its extraordinary inner proportions. "It's on the other side of the field."

"Well, why don't you, Harry, Hermione, and Kat go and get us some water, then –" Mr Weasley handed over the kettle and a couple of saucepans, "— and the rest of us will get some wood for a fire."

"But we've got an oven," said Ron, "why can't we just –?"

"Ron, anti-Muggle security!" said Mr Weasley, his face shining with anticipation. "When real Muggles camp, they cook on fires outdoors, I've seen them at it!"

After a quick tour of the girls' tent, which was slightly smaller than the boys', though without the smell of cats, Ron, Hermione, Kat, and I set off across the campsite with the kettle and saucepans.

Now, with the sun newly risen and the mist lifting, we could see the city of tents that stretched in every direction. We made our way slowly through the rows, staring eagerly around. It was only just dawning on me how many witches and wizards there must be in the world; I had never really thought much about those in other countries.

Our fellow campers were starting to wake up. First to stir were the families with small children; I had never seen witches and wizards this young before. A tiny boy no older than two was crouched outside a large pyramid-shaped tent, holding a wand and poking happily at a slug in the grass, which was swelling slowly to the size of a salami. As we drew level with him, his mother came hurrying out of the tent.

"How many times, Kevin? You don't – touch – Daddy's – wand –yeuch!"

She had trodden on the giant slug, which burst. Her scolding carried after us on the still air, mingling with the little boy's yells – "You bust slug! You bust slug!"

A short way further on, we saw two little witches, barely older than Kevin, who were riding toy broomsticks which rose only high enough for the girls' toes to skim the dewy grass. A Ministry wizard had already spotted them; as he hurried past us he muttered distractedly, 'In broad daylight! Parents having a lie-in, I suppose –"

Here and there adult wizards and witches were emerging from their tents and starting to cook breakfast. Some, with furtive looks around them, conjured fires with their wands; others were striking matches with dubious looks on their faces, as though sure this couldn't work. Three African wizards sat in serious conversation, all of them wearing long white robes and roasting what looked like a rabbit on a bright purple fire, while a group of middle-aged American witches sat gossiping happily beneath a spangled banner stretched between their tents which read: The Salem Witches' Institute. I caught snatches of conversation in strange languages from the inside of tents they passed, and though I couldn't understand a single word, the tone of every single voice was excited.

"Er – is it my eyes, or has everything gone green?" said Ron.

It wasn't just Ron's eyes. We had walked into a patch of tents that were all covered with a thick growth of shamrocks, so that it looked as though small, oddly shaped hillocks had sprouted out of the earth. Grinning faces could be seen under those which had their flaps open. Then, from behind us, we heard our names.

'Harry! Ron! Hermione! Katrina!"

It was Seamus Finnigan, our fellow Gryffindor fourth-year. He was sitting in front of his own shamrock-covered tent, with a sandy-haired woman who had to be his mother, and his best friend, Dean Thomas, also of Gryffindor.

"Like the decorations?" said Seamus, grinning, when Ron, Hermione, Kat, and I had gone over to say hello. "The Ministry's not too happy."

"Kat, you..you look...um, amazing!" I heard Dean comment as he and Seamus stared at Kat. I clenched my teeth again, not liking the way they were looking at her.

"Ah, why shouldn't we show our colours?" said Mrs Finnigan. "You should see what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents. You'll be supporting Ireland, of course?" she added, eyeing us beadily.

When we had assured her that we were indeed supporting Ireland, we set off again, though, as Ron said, "Like we'd say anything else surrounded by that lot."

"I wonder what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents?" said Hermione.

"Let's go and have a look," said Kat, pointing to a large patch of tents upfield, where the Bulgarian flag, red, green and white, was fluttering in the breeze.

The tents here had not been bedecked with plant life, but each and every one of them had the same poster attached to it, a poster of a very surly face with heavy black eyebrows. The picture was of course moving, but all it did was blink and scowl.

"Krum," said Ron quietly.

"What?" said Hermione.

"Krum!" said Ron. "Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker!"

"He looks really grumpy," said Hermione, looking around at the many Krums blinking and scowling at us.

'"Really grumpy"?' Ron raised his eyes to the heavens. "Who cares what he looks like? He's unbelievable. He's really young, too. Only just eighteen or something. He's a genius, you wait until tonight, you'll see."

I scowled as we made our way over to find the water tap. I couldn't help but notice how many pairs of eyes had started trailing after Kat. I didn't like it one bit, but I had to admit, she looked a little different, and even I found myself looking over to her whenever I thought I could get away with it. She hadn't just changed physically, but there was something about her that seemed...absolutely charming!

There was already a small queue for the tap in the corner of the field. We joined it, right behind a pair of men who were having a heated argument. One of them was a very old wizard who was wearing a long flowery nightgown. The other was clearly a Ministry wizard; he was holding out a pair of pinstriped trousers and almost crying with exasperation.

"Just put them on, Archie, there's a good chap, you can't walk around like that, the Muggle on the gate's already getting suspicious –"

"I bought this in a Muggle shop, "said the old wizard stubbornly. "Muggles wear them."

"Muggle women wear them, Archie, not the men, they wear these," said the Ministry wizard, and he brandished the pinstriped trousers.

"I'm not putting them on," said old Archie in indignation. "I like a healthy breeze round my privates, thanks."

Hermione and Kat were overcome with such a strong fit of the giggles at this point that they had to duck out of the queue, and only returned when Archie had collected his water and moved away again.

Walking more slowly now, because of the weight of the water, we made our way back through the campsite. Here and there we saw more familiar faces: other Hogwarts students with their families. Oliver Wood, mine and Kat's old captain of Quidditch team, dragged us over to his parents' tent to introduce us, and told Kat and I excitedly that he had just been signed to the Puddlemere United reserve team. Next we were hailed by Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff fourth-year, and a little further on we saw Cho Chang, a very pretty girl who played Seeker on the Ravenclaw team. She waved and smiled at me, and I slopped quite a lot of water down my front as I waved back. More to stop Ron smirking than anything, I hurriedly pointed out a large group of teenagers whom I had never seen before.

"Who d'you reckon they are?" I said. "They don't go to Hogwarts, do they?"

''Spect they go to some foreign school," said Ron. "I know there are others, never met anyone who went to one though. Bill had a pen-friend at a school in Brazil...this was years and years ago...and he wanted to go on an exchange trip but Mum and Dad couldn't afford it. His pen-friend got all offended when he said he wasn't going and sent him a cursed hat. It made his ears shrivel up."

I laughed, but didn't voice the amazement I felt at hearing about other wizarding schools. I supposed, now I saw representatives of so many nationalities in the campsite, that I had been stupid never to realise that Hogwarts couldn't be the only one. I glanced at Hermione and Kat, who looked utterly unsurprised by the information; though Kat was looking a little peeved as she glanced back at Cho. No doubt they had run across the news about other wizarding schools in some book or other.

"You've been ages," said George, when we finally got back to the Weasleys' tents.

"Met a few people," said Ron, setting the water down. "You not got that fire started yet?"

"Dad's having fun with the matches," said Fred.

Mr Weasley was having no success at all in lighting the fire, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Splintered matches littered the ground around him, but he looked as though he was having the time of his life.

"Oops!" he said, as he managed to light a match, and promptly dropped it in surprise.

I saw Kat laugh at this and quickly wave snap her fingers together the next time Mr Weasley bent down and held another lit match over the wood, and a fire burst to life.

Unfortunately, it was at least another hour before it was hot enough to cook anything. There was plenty to watch while we waited, however. Our tent seemed to be pitched right alongside a kind of thoroughfare to the pitch, and Ministry members kept hurrying up and down it, greeting Mr Weasley cordially as they passed. Mr Weasley kept up a running commentary, mainly for mine, Hermione, and Kat's benefit; his own children knew too much about the Ministry to be greatly interested.

"That was Cuthbert Mockridge, Head of the Goblin Liaison Office...here comes Gilbert Wimple, he's with the Committee on Experimental Charms, he's had those horns for a while now...Hello, Arnie...Arnold Peasegood, he's an Obliviator – member of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, you know...and that's Bode and Croaker...they're Unspeakables..."

"They're what?"

"From the Department of Mysteries, top-secret, no idea what they get up to..."

At last, the fire was ready, and we had just started cooking eggs and sausages when Bill, Charlie and Percy came strolling out of the woods towards us.

"Just Apparated, Dad," said Percy loudly. "Ah, excellent, lunch!"

We were halfway through our plates of sausages and eggs when Mr Weasley jumped to his feet, waving and grinning at a man who was striding towards them. "Aha!" he said. "The man of the moment! Ludo!"

Ludo Bagman was easily the most noticeable person I had seen so far, even including old Archie in his flowered nightdress. He was wearing long Quidditch robes in thick horizontal strips of bright yellow and black. An enormous picture of a wasp was splashed across his chest. He had the look of a powerfully built man gone slightly to seed; the robes were stretched tightly across a large belly he surely had not had in the days when he had played Quidditch for England. His nose was squashed (probably broken by a stray Bludger, I thought), but his round blue eyes, short blond hair and rosy complexion made him look like a very overgrown schoolboy.

"Ahoy there!" Bagman called happily. He was walking as though he had springs attached to the balls of his feet, and was plainly in a state of wild excitement.

"Arthur, old man," he puffed, as he reached the campfire, "what a day, eh? What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming...and hardly a hiccup in the arrangements...not much for me to do!"

Behind him, a group of haggard-looking Ministry wizards rushed past, pointing at the distant evidence of some sort of a magical fire which was sending violet sparks twenty feet into the air.

Percy hurried forward with his hand outstretched. Apparently his disapproval of the way Ludo Bagman ran his department did not prevent him wanting to make a good impression.

"Ah – yes," said Mr Weasley, grinning, "this is my son, Percy, he's just started at the Ministry – and this is Fred – no, George, sorry – that's Fred – Bill, Charlie, Ron – my daughter, Ginny – and Ron's friends, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, and Katrina."

Bagman did the smallest of double-takes when he heard my name, and his eyes performed the familiar flick upwards to the scar on my forehead. I couldn't help but feel a little jealous of Kat, who didn't have to worry about this.

'"Everyone," Mr Weasley continued, "this is Ludo Bagman, you know who he is, it's thanks to him we've got such good tickets –"

Bagman beamed and waved his hand as if to say it had been nothing.

"Fancy a bet on the match, Arthur?" he said eagerly, jingling what seemed to be a large amount of gold in the pockets of his yellow and black robes. "I've already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will score first – I offered him nice odds, considering Ireland's front three are the strongest I've seen in years – and little Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm on a week-long match."

"Oh...go on, then," said Mr Weasley. "Let's see...a Galleon on Ireland to win?"

"A Galleon?" Ludo Bagman looked slightly disappointed, but recovered himself. "Very well, very well...any other takers?"

"They're a bit young to be gambling," said Mr Weasley. "Molly wouldn't like –"

"We'll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts," said Fred, as he and George quickly pooled all their money, "that Ireland wins – but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch. Oh, and we'll throw in a fake wand."

"You don't want to go showing Mr Bagman rubbish like that –" Percy hissed, but Bagman didn't seem to think the wand was rubbish at all; on the contrary, his boyish face shone with excitement as he took it from Fred, and when the wand gave a loud squawk and turned into a rubber chicken, Bagman roared with laughter.

"Excellent! I haven't seen one that convincing in years! I'd pay five Galleons for that!"

Percy froze in an attitude of stunned disapproval.

"Boys," said Mr Weasley under his breath, "I don't want you betting...that's all your savings...your mother –"

"Don't be a spoilsport, Arthur!" boomed Ludo Bagman, rattling his pockets excitedly. "They're old enough to know what they want! You reckon Ireland will win but Krum'll get the Snitch? Not a chance, boys, not a chance...I'll give you excellent odds on that one...we'll add five Galleons for the funny wand, then, shall we..."

Mr Weasley looked on helplessly as Ludo Bagman whipped out a notebook and quill and began jotting down the twins' names.

"Cheers," said George, taking the slip of parchment Bagman handed him and tucking it away carefully.

Bagman turned most cheerfully back to Mr Weasley. "Couldn't do me a brew, I suppose? I'm keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number's making difficulties, and I can't understand a word he's saying. Barty'll be able to sort it out. He speaks about a hundred and fifty languages."

"Mr Crouch?" said Percy, suddenly abandoning his look of poker-stiff disapproval and positively writhing with excitement. "He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll..."

"Anyone can speak Troll," said Fred dismissively, "all you have to do is point and grunt."

Percy threw Fred an extremely nasty look, and stoked the fire vigorously to bring the kettle back to the boil.

"Any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?" Mr Weasley asked, as Bagman settled himself down on the grass beside them all.

"Not a dicky bird," said Bagman comfortably. "But she'll turn up. Poor old Bertha...memory like a leaky cauldron and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. She'll wander back into the office some time in October, thinking it's still July."

"You don't think it might be time to send someone to look for her?" Mr Weasley suggested tentatively, as Percy handed Bagman his tea.

"Barty Crouch keeps saying that," said Bagman, his round eyes widening innocently, "but we really can't spare anyone at the moment. Oh – talk of the devil! Barty!"

A wizard had just Apparated at our fireside, and he could not have made more of a contrast with Ludo Bagman, sprawled on the grass in his old Wasp robes. Barty Crouch was a stiff, upright, elderly man, dressed in an impeccably crisp suit and tie. The parting in his short grey hair was almost unnaturally straight and his narrow toothbrush moustache looked as though he trimmed it using a slide-rule. His shoes were very highly polished. I could see at once why Percy idolised him. Percy was a great believer in rigidly following rules, and Mr Crouch had complied with the rule about Muggle dressing so thoroughly that he could have passed as a bank manager; I doubted even Uncle Vernon would have spotted him for what he really was.

"Pull up a bit of grass, Barty," said Ludo brightly, patting the ground beside him.

"No, thank you, Ludo," said Crouch, and there was a bite of impatience in his voice. "I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box."

"Oh, is that what they're after?" said Bagman. "I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent."

"Mr Crouch!" said Percy breathlessly, sunk into a kind of half bow which made him look like a hunchback. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Oh," said Mr Crouch, looking over at Percy in mild surprise. "Yes – thank you, Weatherby."

Fred and George choked into their own cups. Percy, very pink around the ears, busied himself with the kettle.

"Oh, and I've been wanting a word with you, too, Arthur," said Mr Crouch, his sharp eyes falling upon Mr Weasley. "Ali Bashir's on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your embargo on flying carpets."

Mr Weasley heaved a deep sigh. "I sent him an owl about that just last week. If I've told him once I've told him a hundred times: carpets are defined as a Muggle Artifact by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects, but will he listen?"

"I doubt it," said Mr Crouch, accepting a cup from Percy. "He's desperate to export here."

"Well, they'll never replace brooms in Britain, will they?" said Bagman.

"Ali thinks there's a niche in the market for a family vehicle," said Mr Crouch. "I remember my grandfather had an Axminster that could seat twelve – but that was before carpets were banned, of course."

He spoke as though he wanted to leave nobody in any doubt that all his ancestors had abided strictly by the law.

"So, been keeping busy, Barty?" said Bagman breezily.

"Fairly," said Mr Crouch drily. "Organizing Portkeys across five continents is no mean feat, Ludo."

"I expect you'll both be glad when this is over?" said Mr Weasley.

Ludo Bagman looked shocked. "Glad! Don't know when I've had more fun...still, it's not as though we haven't got anything to look forward to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organise, eh?"

Mr Crouch raised his eyebrows at Bagman. "We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details –"

"Oh, details!" said Bagman, waving the word away like a cloud of midges. "They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? I bet you anything these kids'll know soon enough anyway. I mean, it's happening at Hogwarts –"

"Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know," said Mr Crouch sharply, cutting Bagman's remarks short. "Thank you for the tea, Weatherby."

He pushed his undrunk tea back at Percy and waited for Ludo to rise; Bagman struggled to his feet again, swigging down the last of his tea, the gold in his pockets chinking merrily.

"See you all later!" he said. "You'll be up in the Top Box with me – I'm commentating!" He waved, Barty Crouch nodded curtly, and both of them Disapparated.

"What's happening at Hogwarts, Dad!" said Fred at once. "What were they talking about?"

"You'll find out soon enough," said Mr Weasley, smiling.

"It's classified information, until such time as the Ministry decides to release it," said Percy stiffly. "Mr Crouch was quite right not to disclose it."

"Oh, shut up, Weatherby," said Fred.

A sense of excitement rose like a palpable cloud over the campsite as the afternoon wore on. By dusk, the still summer air itself seemed to be quivering with anticipation, and as darkness spread like a curtain over the thousands of waiting wizards, the last vestiges of pretence disappeared: the Ministry seemed to have bowed to the inevitable, and stopped fighting the signs of blatant magic now breaking out everywhere.

Salesmen were Apparating every few feet, carrying trays and pushing carts full of extraordinary merchandise. There were luminous rosettes – green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria – which were squealing the names of the players, pointed green hats bedecked with dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves adorned with lions that really roared, flags from both countries which played their national anthems as they were waved; there were tiny models of Firebolts, which really flew, and collectible figures of famous players, which strolled across the palm of your hand, preening themselves.

"Been saving my pocket money all summer for this," Ron told me, as the four of us strolled through the salesmen, buying souvenirs. Though Ron purchased himself a dancing-shamrock hat and a large green rosette, he also bought a small figure of Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker. The miniature Krum walked backwards and forwards over Ron's hand, scowling up at the green rosette above him. Kat bought a mini Firebolt, though I couldn't see why, we both had the real thing.

"It's for Drake!" She said grinning at me. "I can't wait to see how cute he looks riding this!" We laughed as we pictured it.

"Wow, look at these!" I said, hurrying over to a cart piled high with what looked like brass binoculars, except that they were covered in all sorts of weird knobs and dials.

"Omnioculars," said the saleswizard eagerly. "You can replay action...slow everything down...and they flash up a play-by-play breakdown if you need it. Bargain – ten Galleons each."

"Wish I hadn't bought this now," said Ron, gesturing at his dancing shamrock hat and gazing longingly at the Omnioculars.

"Four pairs," I said, firmly to the wizard.

"No – don't bother," said Ron, going red as Kat shoved enough money to cover her's and Hermione's into my hand. Ron was always touchy about the fact that Kat and I, who had inherited a small fortune from our parents, had much more money than he did.

"You won't be getting anything for Christmas," I told him, thrusting Omnioculars into his as Kat handed Hermione's to her. "For about ten years, mind."

"Fair enough," said Ron, grinning.

"Oooh, thanks, Harry, thanks Kat!" said Hermione. "And I'll get us some programmes, look –"

Our money bags considerably lighter, we went back to the tents. Bill, Charlie and Ginny were all sporting green rosettes too, and Mr Weasley was carrying an Irish flag. Fred and George had no souvenirs as they had given Bagman all their gold.

And then a deep, booming gong sounded somewhere beyond the woods, and, at once, green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the pitch.

"It's time!" said Mr Weasley, looking as excited as any of us. "Come on, let's go!"

********************************************

In-line Comments

\- yes, I know Drake has his own wings but still, thought it would be a cute little detail haha  
\- once again, it's just another manifestation of Kat's 'charming' trait that she gets from her father


	66. The Quidditch World Cup

Katrina's POV

Clutching our purchases, Mr Weasley in the lead, we all hurried into the wood, following the lantern-lit trail. We could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around us, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing. The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious; I couldn't stop grinning. We walked through the wood for twenty minutes, talking and joking loudly, until at last we emerged on the other side, and found ourselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium. Though I could see only a fraction of the immense gold walls surrounding the pitch, I could tell that ten cathedrals would fit comfortably inside it.

"Seats a hundred thousand," said Mr Weasley, spotting the awestruck look on Harry's and my face. "Ministry task force of five hundred have been working on it all year. Muggle-Repelling Charms on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have got anywhere near here all year, they've suddenly remembered urgent appointments and had to dash away again...Bless them," he added fondly, leading the way towards the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards.

"Prime seats!" said the Ministry witch at the entrance, when she checked our tickets. "Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go."

The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. We clambered upwards with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through doors into the stands to their left and right. We kept climbing, and at last we reached the top of the staircase, and found ourselves in a small box, set at the highest point of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the golden goalposts. About twenty purple-and-gilt chairs stood in two rows here, and I, filing into the front seats with the Weasleys, looked down upon a scene the like of which I could never have imagined.

A hundred thousand witches and wizards were taking their places in the seats which rose in levels around the long oval pitch. Everything was suffused with a mysterious golden light that seemed to come from the stadium itself. The pitch looked smooth as velvet from our lofty position. At either end of the pitch stood three goal hoops, fifty feet high; right opposite us, almost at my eye level, was a gigantic blackboard. Gold writing kept dashing across it as though an invisible giant's hand was scrawling upon it and then wiping it off again; watching it, I saw that it was flashing advertisements across the pitch.

I tore my eyes away from the sign and looked over my shoulder to see who else was sharing the box with us. So far it was empty, except for a tiny creature sitting in the second from last seat at the end of the row behind us. The creature, whose legs were so short they stuck out in front of it on the chair, was wearing a tea-towel draped like a toga, and it had its face hidden in its hands. Yet those long, bat-like ears were oddly familiar...

"Dobby?!" said Harry and incredulously.

The tiny creature looked up and parted its fingers, revealing enormous brown eyes and a nose the exact size and shape of a large tomato. It wasn't Dobby – it was, however, unmistakeably a house-elf, as my friend Dobby had been. Harry had set Dobby free from his old owners, the Malfoy family.

"Did sir and ma'am just call me Dobby?" squeaked the elf curiously, from between its fingers. Its voice was higher even than Dobby's had been, a teeny, quivering squeak of a voice, and I suspected – though it was very hard to tell with a house-elf – that this one might just be female. Ron and Hermione spun around in their seats to look. Though they had heard a lot about Dobby from Harry and I, they had never actually met him. Even Mr Weasley looked around in interest.

"Sorry," I told the elf, "we just thought you were someone we knew."

'But I knows Dobby too!" squeaked the elf. She was shielding her face, as though blinded by light, though the Top Box was not brightly lit. "My name is Winky, sir – and you, sir –' her dark brown eyes widened to the size of side plates as they rested upon Harry's scar, 'you is surely Harry Potter and Katrina!"

"Yeah, we are," said Harry.

"But Dobby talks of you two all the time!" she said, lowering her hands very slightly and looking awestruck.

"How is he?" said Harry and I together. "How's freedom suiting him?"

"Ah, sir," said Winky, shaking her head, "ah, sir, meaning no disrespect, sir, but I is not sure you did Dobby a favour, sir, when you is setting him free."

"Why?" said Harry, taken aback. "What's wrong with him?" Knowing the house elves at Hogwarts, I had an idea where Winky was heading with this.

"Freedom is going to Dobby's head, sir,'"said Winky sadly. "Ideas above his station, sir. Can't get another position, sir."

"Why not?" said Harry.

Winky lowered her voice by a half octave and whispered, "He is wanting paying for his work, sir."

"Paying?" said Harry blankly. "Well – why shouldn't he be paid?"

Winky looked quite horrified at the idea, and closed her fingers slightly so that her face was half-hidden again.

"House-elves is not paid, sir!" she said in a muffled squeak. "No, no, no. I says to Dobby, I says, go find yourself a nice family and settle down, Dobby. He is getting up to all sorts of high jinks, sir, what is unbecoming to a house-elf. You goes racketing around like this, Dobby, I says, and next thing I hear you's up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, like some common goblin."

"Well, it's about time he had a bit of fun," said Harry.

"House-elves is not supposed to have fun, Harry Potter," said Winky firmly, from behind her hands. "House-elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, Harry Potter –" she glanced towards the edge of the box and gulped, "— but my master sends me to the Top Box and I comes, sir."

"Why's he sent you up here, if he knows you don't like heights?" said Harry, frowning.

"Master – master wants me to save him a seat, Harry Potter, he is very busy," said Winky, tilting her head towards the empty space beside her. "Winky is wishing she is back in master's tent, Harry Potter, but Winky does what she is told, Winky is a good house-elf." I shook my head, not liking the sound of her boss; someone who would knowingly send her up here when they knew she didn't like heights!

She gave the edge of the box another frightened look, and hid her eyes completely again. Harry turned back to us.

"So that's a house-elf?" Ron muttered. "Weird things, aren't they?"

"Dobby was weirder," said Harry, and I fervently.

Ron pulled out his Omnioculars and started testing them, staring down into the crowd on the other side of the stadium.

"Wild!" he said, twiddling the replay knob on the side. "I can make that old bloke down there pick his nose again...and again...and again..."

Hermione, meanwhile, was skimming eagerly through her velvet-covered, tasselled programme.

'"A display from the team mascots will precede the match'," she read aloud.

"Oh, that's always worth watching," said Mr Weasley. "National teams bring creatures from their native land, you know, to put on a bit of a show."

The box filled gradually around us over the next half hour. Mr Weasley kept shaking hands with people who were obviously very important wizards. Percy jumped to his feet so often that he looked as though he was trying to sit on a hedgehog. When Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic himself, arrived, Percy bowed so low that his glasses fell off and shattered. Highly embarrassed, he repaired them with his wand, and thereafter remained in his seat, throwing jealous looks at Harry and I, whom Cornelius Fudge had greeted like an old friend. We had met before, and Fudge shook Harry's hand in a fatherly fashion, asked us how we were, and introduced us to the wizards on either side of him.

"Harry Potter, you know," he loudly told the Bulgarian Minister, who was wearing splendid robes of black velvet trimmed with gold, and didn't seem to understand a word of English. "Harry Potter...oh, come on now, you know who he is...the boy who survived You-Know-Who...you do know who he is –"

The Bulgarian wizard suddenly spotted Harry's scar and started gabbling loudly and excitedly, pointing at it.

"Knew we'd get there in the end," said Fudge wearily to Harry. "I'm no great shakes at languages, I need Barty Crouch for this sort of thing. Ah, I see his house-elf's saving him a seat...good job too, these Bulgarian blighters have been trying to cadge all the best places...ah, and here's Lucius!"

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I turned quickly. Edging along the second row to three still-empty seats right behind Mr Weasley were none other than Dobby the house-elf's old owners – Lucius Malfoy, his son, Draco, and his mother, Narcissa.

"Ah, Fudge," said Mr Malfoy, holding out his hand as he reached the Minister for Magic. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?"

"How do you do, how do you do?" said Fudge, smiling and bowing to Mrs Malfoy. "And allow me to introduce you to Mr Oblansk – Obalonsk – Mr – well, he's the Bulgarian Minister for Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else – you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?"

It was a tense moment. Mr Weasley and Mr Malfoy looked at each other with hatred in their eyes. Mr Malfoy's cold grey eyes swept over Mr Weasley, and then up and down the row.

"Good Lord, Arthur," he said softly. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"

Fudge, who wasn't listening, said, "Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."

"How – how nice," said Mr Weasley, with a very strained smile.

Mr Malfoy's eyes had returned to Hermione and I, and we went slightly pink, but stared determinedly back at him. The Malfoys prided themselves on being pure-bloods; in other words, they considered anyone of Muggle descent, like Hermione, second-class. They also considered anyone who befriended a muggle-born to be a blood-traitor. However, under the gaze of the Minister for Magic, Mr Malfoy didn't dare say anything. He nodded sneeringly to Mr Weasley, and continued down the line to his seats. Draco shot Harry, Ron and Hermione one contemptuous look, then settled himself between his mother and father. Though I noticed him staring at me in shock as his gaze wandered over me. I shivered and stepped closer to Harry.

"Slimy gits," Ron muttered, as he, Harry, Hermione, and I turned to face the pitch again. Next moment, Ludo Bagman had charged into the box.

"Everyone ready?" he said, his round face gleaming like a great, excited Edam. "Minister – ready to go?"

"Ready when you are, Ludo," said Fudge comfortably.

Ludo whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat and said "Sonorus!"'and then spoke over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium; his voice echoed over them, booming into every corner of the stands: "Ladies and gentlemen...welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The huge blackboard opposite us was wiped clear of its last message (Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans – a Risk with Every Mouthful!) and now showed BULGARIA: ZERO, IRELAND: ZERO.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce...the Bulgarian Team Mascots!"

The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval.

"I wonder what they've brought?" said Mr Weasley, leaning forwards in his seat. "Aaah!" He suddenly whipped off his glasses and polished them hurriedly on his robes. "Veela!"

"What are Veel–?"

But a hundred Veela were now gliding out onto the pitch, and Harry's question was answered for him. Veela were women...extremely beautiful women as I could tell from the reactions from the guys around us. They started to dance and I watched Harry stare at them blissfully. Next thing I knew, he lifted up his leg and made to climb up and over the side of the box!

I reached out and tugged him back down. The minute my hand touched his shoulder, he seemed to come out of his trance and shook his head in confusion.

Angry yells were filling the stadium as the music ended and the Veela stopped dancing. The crowd didn't want the Veela to go. I looked over to see Ron absent-mindedly shredding the shamrocks on his hat. Mr Weasley, smiling slightly, leant over to Ron and tugged the hat out of his hands.

"You'll be wanting that," he said, "once Ireland have had their say."

"Huh?" said Ron, staring open-mouthed at the Veela, who had now lined up along one side of the pitch.

Hermione made a loud tutting noise. I looked at her suspiciously. Could it be possible she liked Ron and was jealous? Hmmm...I'd have to make sure to ask her the next time we were alone!

"And now," roared Ludo Bagman's voice, "kindly put your wands in the air...for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet had come zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling towards the goalposts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the pitch, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd "oooohed" and "aaaaahed", as though at a firework display. Now the rainbow faded and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it –

"Excellent!" yelled Ron, as the shamrock soared over our heads, and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off our heads and seats. Squinting up at the shamrock, I realised that it was actually composed of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red waistcoats, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green.

"Leprechauns!" said Mr Weasley, over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of whom were still fighting and rummaging around under their chairs to retrieve the gold.

"There you go," Ron yelled happily, stuffing a fistful of gold coins into Harry's hand. "For the Omnioculars! Now you've got to buy me a Christmas present, ha!" I decided not to mention that it would disappear soon enough.

The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the pitch on the opposite side from the Veela, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome – the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you – Dimitrov!"

A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the pitch from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters.

"Ivanova!"

A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out.

"Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand – Krum!"

"That's him, that's him!" yelled Ron, following Krum with his Omnioculars; I quickly focused my own.

Viktor Krum was thin, dark and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked like an overgrown bird of prey. It was hard to believe he was only eighteen.

"And now, please greet – the Irish National Quidditch Team!" yelled Bagman. "Presenting – Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand – Lynch!"

Seven green blurs swept onto the pitch; I spun a small dial on the side of my Omnioculars, and slowed the players down enough to read the word 'Firebolt' on each of their brooms, and see their names, embroidered in silver, upon their backs.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"

A small and skinny wizard, completely bald but with a moustache, wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium, strode out onto the pitch. A silver whistle was protruding from under the moustache, and he was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, his broomstick under the other. I spun the speed dial on my Omnioculars back to normal, watching closely as Mostafa mounted his broomstick and kicked the crate open – four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers and (I saw it for the briefest moment, before it sped out of sight) the minuscule, winged, Golden Snitch. With a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.

"Theeeeeeeey're OFF!" screamed Bagman.

********************************************

"Vell, ve fought bravely," said a gloomy voice behind me. I looked around; it was the Bulgarian Minister for Magic.

"You can speak English!" said Fudge, sounding outraged. "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!"

"Vell, it vos very funny," said the Bulgarian Minister, shrugging.

"And as the Irish team perform a lap of honour, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!" roared Bagman.

My eyes were suddenly dazzled by a blinding white light, as the Top Box was magically illuminated so that everyone in the stands could see the inside. Squinting towards the entrance, I saw two panting wizards carrying into the box a vast golden cup, which they handed to Cornelius Fudge, who was still looking very disgruntled that he'd been using sign language all day for nothing. I laughed and silently applauded the man, he could give Fred and George a run for their title as too pranksters!

"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers – Bulgaria!" Bagman shouted.

And up the stairs into the box came the seven defeated Bulgarian players. The crowd below were applauding appreciatively; I could see thousands and thousands of Omniocular lenses flashing and winking in our direction.

One by one, the Bulgarians filed between the rows of seats in the box, and Bagman called out the name of each as they shook hands with their own Minister and then with Fudge. Krum, who was last in line, looked a real mess. Two black eyes were blooming spectacularly on his bloody face. He was still holding the Snitch. I noticed that he seemed much less co-ordinated on the ground. He was slightly duck-footed and distinctly round-shouldered. But when Krum's name was announced, the whole stadium gave him a resounding, ear-splitting roar. As he went to stand next to his team-mates, I stepped to him and waved my wand.

"Episkey!" I muttered and smiled as the blood vanished. He looked at me in surprise as he mumbled a quick thanks; his eyes looking at me in curiosity.

And then came the Irish team. Aidan Lynch was being supported by Moran and Connolly; the second crash seemed to have dazed him and his eyes looked strangely unfocused. But he grinned happily as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd below thundered their approval. My hands were numb with clapping.

At last, when the Irish team had left the box to perform another lap of honour on their brooms (Aidan Lynch on the back of Connolly's, clutching hard around his waist and still grinning in a bemused sort of way), Bagman pointed his wand at his throat and muttered "Quietus".

"They'll be talking about this one for years," he said hoarsely, "a really unexpected twist, that...shame it couldn't have lasted longer...ah yes...yes, I owe you...how much?"

For Fred and George had just scrambled over the backs of their seats, and were standing in front of Ludo Bagman with broad grins on their faces, their hands outstretched.

********************************************

In-line Comments

\- with her "charm" trait/ability or whatever you wanna call it, Kat is able to counter the Veela's affect on people  
\- ohhh who think Kat is gonna get with Krum instead? Hehe I already know the answer but you'll just have to wait and find out :p


	67. The Dark Mark

Katrina's POV

"Don't tell your mother you've been gambling," Mr Weasley implored Fred and George, as we all made our way slowly down the purple-carpeted stairs.

"Don't worry, Dad," said Fred gleefully, "we've got big plans for this money, we don't want it confiscated."

Mr Weasley looked for a moment as though he was going to ask what these big plans were, but seemed to decide, upon reflection, that he didn't want to know.

We were soon caught up in the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and back to their campsites. Raucous singing was borne towards us on the night air as we retraced our steps along the lantern-lit path, and leprechauns kept shooting over our heads, cackling and waving their lanterns. When we finally reached the tents, nobody felt like sleeping at all and, given the level of noise around us, Mr Weasley agreed that we could all have one last cup of cocoa together before turning in. We were soon arguing enjoyably about the match; Mr Weasley got drawn into a disagreement about cobbing with Charlie, and it was only when Ginny fell asleep right at the tiny table and spilled hot chocolate all over the floor that Mr Weasley called a halt to the verbal replays, and insisted that everyone went to bed. Hermione and I carried Ginny into the next tent, before changing into our pajamas and clambering into bed. From the other side of the campsite we could still hear much singing, and the odd echoing bang. At first the loud sounds kept me awake, but eventually I was able to zone them out and fell fast asleep.

********************************************

I woke up halfway through the night to find a hand clamping down over my mouth as the other dragged me out of bed. I thrashed around and kicked with all my strength, but I couldn't escape the tight grip. I tried to look up and to the side to see who had a hold of me but the hand over my mouth made that impossible. I continued to struggle as I was pulled out of the tent and across the ground until something heavy struck my head and I passed out as a flash of pain echoed through my head.

Harry's POV

"Where's Kat?" Has anyone seen Kat!" I started to panic as I realized that Kat was nowhere in sight. Ron and I had been awakened in the middle of the night by Mr Weasley. Apparently a group of death eaters had decided to relive old times by torturing the Roberts family. I'd grabbed Ron and Hermione and we'd dashed off into the woods without a second thought. How had I not realized Kat had not been with us! I slapped my forehead as I turned around and started to run back the way we came.

But I stopped abruptly and looked over my shoulder. Hermione and Ron looked quickly around, too. It sounded as though someone was staggering towards our clearing. We waited, listening to the sounds of the uneven steps behind the dark trees. But the footsteps came to a sudden halt.

"Hello?" I called.

There was silence. I walked over and peered around a tree. It was too dark to see very far, but I could sense somebody standing just beyond the range of my vision.

"Who's there?" I said.

And then, without warning, the silence was rent by a voice unlike any we had heard in the wood; and it uttered, not a panicked shout, but what sounded like a spell.

"MORSMORDRE!"

And something vast, green and glittering erupted from the patch of darkness my eyes had been struggling to penetrate: it flew up over the treetops and into the sky.

"What the –?" gasped Ron, as he sprang to his feet again, staring up at the thing that had appeared.

For a split second, I thought it was another leprechaun formation. Then I realized that it was a colossal skull, composed of what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. As we watched, it rose higher and higher, blazing in a haze of greenish smoke, etched against the black sky like a new constellation.

Suddenly, the wood all around us erupted with screams. I didn't understand why, but the only possible cause was the sudden appearance of the skull, which had now risen high enough to illuminate the entire wood, like some grisly neon sign. I scanned the darkness for the person who had conjured the skull, but I couldn't see anyone.

"Who's there?" I called again.

"Harry, come on, move!" Hermione had seized the back of my jacket, and was tugging me backwards.

"What's the matter?" I said, startled to see her face so white and terrified.

"It's the Dark Mark, Harry!" Hermione moaned, pulling me as hard as she could. "You-Know-Who's sign!"

"Voldemort's –?"

"Harry, come on!"

I turned – Ron was hurriedly scooping up his miniature Krum – the three of us started across the clearing – but before we had taken more than a few hurried steps, a series of popping noises announced the arrival of twenty wizards, appearing from thin air, surrounding us.

I whirled around, and in a split second, I registered one fact: each of these wizards had their wand out, and every wand was pointing right at myself, Ron and Hermione. Without pausing to think, I yelled, "DUCK!" I seized the other two and pulled them down onto the ground.

"STUPEFY!" roared twenty voices – there was a blinding series of flashes and I felt the hair on my head ripple as though a powerful wind had swept the clearing. Raising my head a fraction of an inch I saw jets of fiery red light flying over us from the wizards' wands, crossing each other, bouncing off tree-trunks, rebounding into the darkness –

"Stop!" yelled a voice I recognized. "STOP! That's my son!"

My hair stopped blowing about. I raised my head a little higher. The wizard in front of me had lowered his wand. I rolled over and saw Mr Weasley striding towards us, looking terrified.

"Ron – Harry –" his voice sounded shaky, "– Hermione – are you all right? Have any of you seen Katrina? She wasn't with the others!" I felt my heart sink at Mr Weasley's words. Where was she!

"Out of the way, Arthur," said a cold, curt voice.

It was Mr Crouch. He and the other Ministry wizards were closing in on us. I got to my feet to face them. Mr Crouch's face was taut with rage.

"Which of you did it?" he snapped, his sharp eyes darting between us. "Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?"

"We didn't do that!" I said, gesturing up at the skull.

"We didn't do anything!" said Ron, who was rubbing his elbow, and looking indignantly at his father. "What did you want to attack us for?"

"Do not lie, sir!" shouted Mr Crouch. His wand was still pointing directly at Ron, and his eyes were popping – he looked slightly mad. "You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!"

"Barty," whispered a witch in a long woollen dressing-gown, "they're kids, Barty, they'd never have been able to –"

"Where did the Mark come from, you three?" said Mr Weasley quickly.

"Over there," said Hermione shakily, pointing at the place where they had heard the voice, "there was someone behind the trees...they shouted words – an incantation –"

"Oh, stood over there, did they?" said Mr Crouch, turning his popping eyes on Hermione now, disbelief etched all over his face. "Said an incantation, did they? You seem very well informed about how that Mark is summoned, missy –"

But none of the Ministry wizards apart from Mr Crouch seemed to think it remotely likely that Ron, Hermione, or I had conjured the skull; on the contrary, at Hermione's words, they had raised all their wands again, and were pointing in the direction she had indicated, squinting through the dark trees.

"We're too late," said the witch in the woollen dressing-gown, shaking her head. "They'll have Disapparated."

"I don't think so," said a wizard with a scrubby brown beard. It was Amos Diggory, Cedric's father. "Our Stunners went right through those trees...there's a good chance we got them..."

"Amos, be careful!" said a few of the wizards warningly, as Mr Diggory squared his shoulders, raised his wand, marched across the clearing and disappeared into the darkness. Hermione watched him vanish with her hands over her mouth.

A few seconds later, we heard Mr Diggory shout.

"Yes! We got them! There's two bodies here! Unconscious! It's – but – blimey..."

"You've got someone?" shouted Mr Crouch, sounding highly disbelieving. "Who? Who is it?"

We heard snapping twigs, the rustling of leaves, and then crunching footsteps as Mr Diggory re-emerged from behind the trees. He was carrying a limp figure in his arms. I recognized the figure. It was Katrina! Ron, Hermione, and I rushed over to her as Cedric's father went back and returned with a second limp figure. I recognized the tiny tea-towel at once. It was Winky.

Mr Crouch did not move or speak as Mr Diggory deposited Mr Crouch's elf on the ground at his feet. The other Ministry wizards were all staring from Katrina to Winky to Mr Crouch. For a few seconds Crouch remained transfixed, his eyes blazing in his white face as he stared down at Winky. Then he appeared to come to life again.

"This – cannot – be," he said jerkily. "No –"

He moved quickly around Mr Diggory and strode off towards the place where he had found Winky.

"No point, Mr Crouch," Mr Diggory called after him. "There's no one else there."

But Mr Crouch did not seem prepared to take his word for it. We could hear him moving around, the rustling of leaves as he pushed the bushes aside, searching.

"Bit embarrassing," Mr Diggory said grimly, looking down at Winky's unconscious form. "Barty Crouch's house-elf...I mean to say...consorting with the witch who conjured the mark...it doesn't look good..."

"It wasn't Katrina! She would never...she wouldn't even know how!" I shouted angrily. I looked closer at my best friend and froze as I noticed the state she was in. "She's bleeding!" Mr Weasley stooped down and pointed his wand at Kat. His wand lit her body up enough that we could all see the blood that oozed from the deep gash on her head. Mr Weasley mumbled a quick healing spell and I breathed a sigh of relief as the blood flow ceased and the gash closed.

"Come off it, Amos," said Mr Weasley quietly, "you don't seriously think it was either Katrina or the elf? The poor girl has been injured for Merlin's sake! It is more likely that she came across the person who did conjure it. As for the elf, the Dark Mark's a wizard's sign. It requires a wand."

"Yeah," said Mr Diggory, "and the elf had one."

"What?" said Mr Weasley.

"Here, look." Mr Diggory held up the wand and showed it to Mr Weasley. "Had it in her hand. So that's clause three of the Code of Wand Use broken for a start. No non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand. I think it's safe to assume that she forcibly took this from the girl.

Just then there was another pop, and Ludo Bagman Apparated right next to Mr Weasley. Looking breathless and disorientated, he spun on the spot, goggling upwards at the emerald green skull.

"The Dark Mark!" he panted, almost trampling Winky as he turned enquiringly to his colleagues. "Who did it? Did you get them? Barty! What's going on?"

Mr Crouch had returned empty-handed. His face was still ghostly white, and his hands and his toothbrush moustache were both twitching.

"Where have you been, Barty?" said Bagman. "Why weren't you at the match? Your elf was saving you a seat, too – Gulping gargoyles!" Bagman had just noticed Winky and Kat lying at his feet. "What happened to them?"

"I have been busy, Ludo," said Mr Crouch, still talking in the same jerky fashion, barely moving his lips. "And they have been Stunned."

"Stunned? By you lot, you mean? But why –?"

Comprehension dawned suddenly on Bagman's round, shiny face; he looked up at the skull, down at Katrina's blood stained face, over to Winky, and then at Mr Crouch.

"No!" he said. "The elf couldn't possibly have conjured the Dark Mark? She wouldn't know how! She would need a wand for a start!"

"And she had one," said Mr Diggory. "I found her holding this, Ludo. As I was just saying, it appears the elf assaulted the girl and took her wand. If it's all right with you, Mr Crouch, I think we should hear what the elf has got to say for herself...the girl as well after we've heard from the elf.

Crouch gave no sign that he had heard Mr Diggory, but Mr Diggory seemed to take his silence for assent. He raised his own wand, pointed it at Winky and said, "Rennervate!"

Winky stirred feebly. Her big brown eyes opened and she blinked several times in a bemused sort of way. Watched by the silent wizards, she raised herself shakily into a sitting position. She caught sight of Mr Diggory's feet, and slowly, tremulously, raised her eyes to stare up into his face; then, more slowly still, she looked up into the sky. I could see the floating skull reflected twice in her enormous, glassy eyes. She gave a gasp, looked wildly around the crowded clearing and burst into terrified sobs.

"Elf!" said Mr Diggory sternly. "Do you know who I am? I'm a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!"

Winky began to rock backwards and forwards on the ground, her breath coming in sharp bursts. I was reminded forcibly of Dobby in his moments of terrified disobedience.

"As you see, elf, the Dark Mark was conjured here a short while ago," said Mr Diggory. "And you were discovered moments later, right beneath it! An explanation, if you please!"

"I – I – I is not doing it, sir!" Winky gasped. "I is not knowing how, sir!"

"You were found next to an injured witch and a wand in your hand!" barked Mr Diggory, brandishing it in front of her. "Did you steal this from her!" And as the wand caught the green light that was filling the clearing from the skull above, I recognized it.

"Hey – that's mine!" I said startled.

Everyone in the clearing looked at me.

"Excuse me?" said Mr Diggory, incredulously.

"That's my wand! Not Kat's!" I said. "I dropped it!"

"You dropped it?" repeated Mr Diggory in disbelief. "Is this a confession? You threw it aside after you conjured the Mark?"

"Amos, think who you're talking to!" said Mr Weasley, very angrily. "Is Harry Potter likely to injure one of his best friends and conjure the Dark Mark?"

"Er – of course not," mumbled Mr Diggory. "Sorry...carried away..."

"I didn't drop it there, anyway," I said, jerking my thumb towards the trees beneath the skull. "I missed it right after we got into the wood."

"So," said Mr Diggory, his eyes hardening as he turned to look at Winky again, cowering at his feet. "You found this wand, eh, elf? And you picked it up and thought you'd have some fun with it, did you? And then this girl came along and saw what you were doing?"

"I is not doing magic with it, sir" squealed Winky, tears streaming down the sides of her squashed and bulbous nose. "I is...I is...I is finding the girl on the ground and just picking it up, sir! I is not making the Dark Mark, sir, I is not knowing how!"

"So then you're saying it was the girl who conjured it? Then how was she injured? It certainly wasn't by any of our spells. That injury was caused by something physical, not magical."

"It wasn't Katrina or the elf!" said Hermione. She looked very nervous, speaking up in front of all these Ministry wizards, yet determined all the same. "We would have recognized if it was Katrina and Winky's got a squeaky little voice. The one we heard doing the incantation was much deeper!" She looked round at me and Ron, appealing for our support. "It didn't sound anything like Katrina or Winky, did it?"

"No," I said, shaking my head furiously. "It definitely didn't sound like Kat or Winky!"

"Yeah, it was a human voice, and a deep-throated one at that," said Ron.

"Well, we'll soon see," growled Mr Diggory, looking unimpressed. "There's a simple way of discovering the last spell a wand performed, elf, did you know that?"

Winky trembled and shook her head frantically, her ears flapping, as Mr Diggory raised his own wand again, and placed it tip to tip with mine.

"Prior Incantato!" roared Mr Diggory.

I heard Hermione gasp, horrified, as a gigantic serpent-tongued skull erupted from the point where the two wands met, but it was a mere shadow of the green skull high above us, it looked as though it was made of thick grey smoke: the ghost of a spell.

"Deletrius!" Mr Diggory shouted, and the smoky skull vanished in a wisp of smoke.

"So," said Mr Diggory with a kind of savage triumph, looking down upon Winky, who was still shaking convulsively.

"I is not doing it!" she squealed, her eyes rolling in terror. "I is not, I is not, I is not knowing how! I is a good elf, I isn't using wands, I isn't knowing how!"

"You've been caught red-handed, elf!" Mr Diggory roared. "Caught with the guilty wand in your hand and an injured girl at your feet!"

"Amos," said Mr Weasley loudly, '  
"think about it...precious few wizards know how to do that spell...where would she have learnt it?"

"Perhaps Amos is suggesting," said Mr Crouch, cold anger in every syllable, "that I routinely teach my servants to conjure the Dark Mark?"

There was a deeply unpleasant silence.

Amos Diggory looked horrified. "Mr Crouch...not...not at all..."

"You have now come very close to accusing the two people in this clearing who are least likely to conjure that Mark!" barked Mr Crouch. "Harry Potter – and myself - along with an unconscious and injured girl. I suppose you are familiar with the boy's story, Amos?"

"Of course – everyone knows –" muttered Mr Diggory, looking highly discomfited.

"And I trust you remember the many proofs I have given, over a long career, that I despise and detest the Dark Arts and those who practise them?" Mr Crouch shouted, his eyes bulging again.

"Mr Crouch, I – I never suggested you had anything to do with it!" muttered Amos Diggory, now reddening behind his scrubby brown beard.

"If you accuse my elf, you accuse me, Diggory!" shouted Mr Crouch. "Where else would she have learnt to conjure it?"

"She – she might've picked it up anywhere –"

"Precisely, Amos," said Mr Weasley. "She might have picked it up anywhere...Winky?" he said kindly, turning to the elf, but she flinched as though he, too, was shouting at her. "Where exactly did you find Harry's wand?"

Winky was twisting the hem of her tea-towel so violently that it was fraying beneath her fingers.

'I – I is finding it...finding it there, sir..."she whispered, "there...in the trees, sir...on the ground next to the girl."

"You see, Amos?" said Mr Weasley. "Whoever conjured the Mark could have Disapparated right after they'd done it, leaving Harry's wand behind. A clever thing to do, not using their own wand, which could have betrayed them. Katrina must have spotted him, so he hit her. And Winky here had the misfortune to come across her moments later and picked up the wand."

"But then, she'd have been feet away from the real culprit! Assuming it wasn't the girl! There's still a chance that she stole her friend's wand, conjured the mark, and injured herself to throw off suspicion!" said Mr Diggory impatiently. "Elf? Did you see anyone?"

Mr Weasley had to force me to stay on the ground next to Katrina - for I had attempted to lunge at Amos for daring to say Kat had anything to do with this, though a small part of me couldn't help hearing the potential truth to what he'd said. After all, out of everyone here, Katrina was certainly the only one directly tied to Voldemort - but after everything we'd been through, I was not about to make the mistake of doubting her loyalty again!

Winky began to tremble worse than ever. Her giant eyes flickered from Mr Diggory to Ludo Bagman, and on to Mr Crouch.

Then she gulped, and said, 'I is seeing no one, sir...no one...but the girl..."

"Well, then, let's wake her up and see what she has to say!" Mr Diggory pointed his wand at Kat and said, "rennervate!"

Katrina's POV

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was darkness. Then a haze of green floating above me. I blinked wearily and made to sit up, but quickly realized that might not have been the best idea as pain laced across my skull. I moaned and felt my head. When I withdrew my hand, it was sticky but there was no cut. Someone must have recently healed me! But why?

"Wha...what happened?" I said aloud.

"That's what we would like to know, young lady!" an angry voice replied. It was only then that I noticed I wasn't alone. I was in a clearing of woods and surrounded by a number of wizards who were all looking at me. I looked behind me and saw my three best friends.

"Did you conjure it? Do not bother to lie! We can force the truth out of you if we must! Don't think because you are young and female that we won't do what is necessary!"

"C-conjure what?" I asked in complete confusion. What was this man talking about! And why was he so angry at me! I looked closer and recognized him as Cedric's father. "What are you talking about?"

Before Mr Diggory could respond, I saw Ron's dad hold a hand out for silence as he bent down to me.

"Katrina, what's the last thing you remember?"

I furrowed my brows as I tried to sift through my memory.

"Well...we watched the Quidditch game, went back to the tents, carried Ginny to bed when she fell asleep, and then Hermione and I changed clothes and also got into bed. I-I don't really remember much after that...I woke up in the middle of the night to find myself being dragged out of bed - but I couldn't tell who it was - I tried to get away, but I guess they must have hit me over the head...what is it that you think I did? And what is THAT!" I finished by pointing up to the green skull and snake, knowing that I wasn't going to like the answer. I had a nasty suspicion, but I was really hoping I was wrong.

"It's the Dark Mark, his mark," Mr Weasley whispered to me quietly. I shivered as my suspicion was confirmed.

"Okay...but why do you guys think I had anything to do with it? I wouldn't know how to conjure that monstrosity! Nor would I want to or have any reason to!"

"Amos was just...just being... cautious...look, the person you said grabbed you...can you tell us anything about them?" Mr Weasley said as he glared at Amos before turning back to me.

"Was it, for instance, an elf?" I looked at Mr Diggory in confusion then felt my eyes widen as I followed his gaze to Winky.

"Wait...you think Winky grabbed me? That she, she conjured...oh come on! You can't be serious! She'd need a wand!"

"She had one, she was found next to you with Harry's wand - which has been proven to be the wand that conjured the mark." Mr Diggory stated, his eyes still glaring between me and Winky in suspicion.

"But how did she get Harry's wand?" I looked over at Harry, none of this was making any sense.

"I must have dropped it when Ron, Hermione, and I were in the woods." He told me.

"But why were you in the woods to begin with?"

"I'll explain later," Harry whispered and I nodded uncertainly. Still extremely confused.

"Ok, so just to clarify, you think either I conjured the Dark Mark, or Winky did? But neither scenario makes sense! I just told you, I was in bed until I was rudely dragged away! And while I don't know who it was, it was definitely not Winky! She's a lot smaller than whoever grabbed me and certainly not strong enough!"

"Oh, you'd be surprised how strong elves can be —"

I opened my mouth to tell Mr Diggory again that Winky was innocent and that there was obviously a third person involved but he spoke over me.

"Keep quiet, girl, and consider yourself lucky that you have been ruled out as a suspect...for the time being. I find it highly suspicious that you claim to have been kidnapped and yet, were left behind. If the culprit had time to escape before we sent our stunning spells, they had time to take you with them!"

"Well, maybe Winky scared them off and they panicked!" I countered angrily. I did not appreciate being accused of lying!

"Even if that's true and the real culprit got away, the elf was in possession of a wand; which is against the law. I opened my mouth angrily to say that such a small detail could hardly be important right now but was cut off again, this time by another man I recognized as Mr Crouch.

"Amos," said Mr Crouch curtly, "I am fully aware that, in the ordinary course of events, you would want to take Winky into your department for questioning. I ask you, however, to allow me to deal with her. As for the girl, she is clearly innocent of any wrongdoing and cannot tell us anymore than she already has so there would be no point in bringing her in."

Mr Diggory looked as though he didn't think much of this suggestion at all, but it was clear to me that Mr Crouch was such an important member of the Ministry that he did not dare refuse him.

"You may rest assured that the elf will be punished," Mr Crouch added coldly.

"But she probably saved my life! Why should she be punished!" I shouted. But Mr Crouch ignored me.

"M-m-master..." Winky stammered, looking up at Mr Crouch, her eyes brimming with tears. "M-m-master, p-p-please..."

Mr Crouch stared back, his face somehow sharpened, each line upon it more deeply etched. There was no pity in his gaze. "Winky has behaved tonight in a manner I would not have believed possible," he said slowly. "I told her to remain in the tent. I told her to stay there while I went to sort out the trouble. And I find that she disobeyed me. This means clothes."

"No!" shrieked Winky, prostrating herself at Mr Crouch's feet. "No, master! Not clothes, not clothes!"

I knew that the only way to turn a house-elf free was to present it with proper garments. It was pitiful to see the way Winky clutched at her tea-towel as she sobbed over Mr Crouch's feet.

"But she was frightened!" Hermione burst out angrily, glaring at Mr Crouch. "Your elf's scared of heights, and those wizards in masks were levitating people! You can't blame her for wanting to get out of their way!" I looked at Hermione in confusion. Levitating people? What was she talking about? What had I missed!

Mr Crouch took a step backwards, freeing himself from contact with the elf, whom he was surveying as though she was something filthy and rotten that was contaminating his over-shined shoes.

"I have no use for a house-elf who disobeys me," he said coldly, looking up at Hermione. "I have no use for a servant who forgets what is due to her master, and to her master's reputation."

Winky was crying so hard that her sobs echoed around the clearing.

There was a very nasty silence, which was ended by Mr Weasley, who said quietly, "Well, I think I'll take my lot back to the tent, if nobody's got any objections. Amos, that wand's told us all it can – if Harry could have it back, please –"

Mr Diggory handed Harry his wand and Harry pocketed it.

"Come on, you four," Mr Weasley said quietly. But Hermione and I didn't move; our eyes still upon the sobbing elf. "Hermione! Katrina!" Mr Weasley said, more urgently. We turned and followed Harry and Ron out of the clearing and off through the trees.

"What's going to happen to Winky?" said Hermione, the moment we had left the clearing.

"I don't know," said Mr Weasley.

"The way they were treating her!" said Hermione furiously. "Mr Diggory, calling her 'elf' all the time...and Mr Crouch! He knows she's as innocent as Katrina and he's still going to sack her! He didn't care how frightened she'd been, or how upset she was – it was like she wasn't even human!"

"Well, she's not," said Ron.

Hermione rounded on him. "That doesn't mean she hasn't got feelings, Ron, it's disgusting the way –"

"Hermione, I agree with you," said Mr Weasley quickly, beckoning her on, "but now is not the time to discuss elf rights. I want to get back to the tent as fast as we can. What happened to the others?"

"We lost them in the dark," said Ron. "Dad, why was everyone so uptight about that skull thing?" I shivered at the mention of it and Harry pulled me in close.

"You ok, Kat? Is your head bothering you?"

"No, it feels fine Harry, it's just cold. I didn't exactly have time to grab a jacket, did I?" I tried to play it off, but I don't think Harry was fooled.

"I'll explain everything back at the tent," said Mr Weasley tensely.

But when we reached the edge of the wood, our progress was impeded.

A large crowd of frightened-looking witches and wizards were congregated there, and when they saw Mr Weasley coming towards them, many of them surged forwards. 'What's going on in there?' 'Who conjured it?' 'Arthur – it's not – him?'

"Of course it's not him," said Mr Weasley impatiently. "We don't know who it was, it looks like they Disapparated. Now excuse me, please, I want to get to bed."

He led Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I through the crowd and back into the campsite. All was quiet and I saw that several ruined tents were smoking. What the bloody hell had happened here!

Charlie's head was poking out of the boys' tent.

"Dad, what's going on?" he called through the dark. "Fred, George and Ginny got back ok, but the others –was Katrina with them?"

"I've got them here," said Mr Weasley, bending down and entering the tent. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I entered after him.

"Merlin's beard, Kat, what happened to you!" I looked at Charlie then to the rest of the Weasley's in surprise.

Bill was sitting at the small kitchen table, holding a bedsheet to his arm, which was bleeding profusely and Charlie had a large rip in his shirt, and Percy was sporting a bloody nose, yet I was the one they were all gawking at?  
Fred, George and Ginny looked unhurt, though shaken.

"Excuse me? You're one to talk! You guys look worse than I do!"

"No, no we don't!" Charlie held up a tin plate and I was able to see myself for the first time that night in the distorted reflection. I thought maybe he might have a point...though my head had been healed, there was still dried blood all over my face and at some point it had dripped down to soak the front of my pajamas. Charlie sat me down and took the wet rag George handed him and began to wipe the blood off as Bill looked at his father.

"Did you get them, Dad?" said Bill sharply. "The person who conjured the Mark?"

"No," said Mr Weasley. "We found Katrina passed out next to Barty Crouch's elf; who was holding Harry's wand, but we're none the wiser about who actually conjured the Mark."

"What?" said Bill, Charlie and Percy together.

"Harry's wand?" said Fred.

"Mr Crouch's elf?" said Percy, sounding thunderstruck.

"What happened to Katrina?" Charlie asked as he continued to clean my face gingerly.

With some assistance from Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I, Mr Weasley explained what had happened in the woods. When we had finished our story, Percy swelled indignantly.

"Well, Mr Crouch is quite right to get rid of an elf like that!" he said. "Running away when he'd expressly told her not to...embarrassing him in front of the whole Ministry...how would that have looked, if she'd gone up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control –"

"She most likely saved my life, Percy, who knows what would have happened to me is she hadn't disobeyed orders on this one particular occasion!" I snapped and turned to face Percy as Hermione finished my sentence for me.

"Are you saying you would have preferred Winky not to have been there to help Kat?"

Percy looked very taken aback. Hermione and I had always got on fairly well with Percy – better, indeed, than any of the others.

"Of course I'm happy Katrina is safe, but a wizard in Mr Crouch's position can't afford a house-elf who's going to run amok with a wand!" said Percy pompously, recovering himself.

"She didn't run amok!" Hermione and I shouted. "She just picked it up off the ground!" I stood up and made to go stand in front of Percy but Charlie pushed me back down into my chair and glared at me to stay put until he was done. I muttered grumpily, crossed my arms, and glared at him but he just smiled and continued mopping up my blood.

"Look, can someone just explain what that skull thing was?" said Ron impatiently. "It wasn't hurting anyone...why's it such a big deal?"

"I told you, it's You-Know-Who's symbol, Ron," said Hermione, before anyone else could answer. "Kat and I read about it in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts." I remembered what the passage had said and felt another shiver roll down my spine; causing Charlie to pause and look at me in concern. I rolled my eyes and motioned for him to continue with his work. He grinned and dunked the rag in a bowl of water Fred had brought over to him and wrung it out before raising it to my face once more.

"And it hasn't been seen for thirteen years," said Mr Weasley quietly. "Of course people panicked...it was almost like seeing You-Know-Who back again."

"I don't get it," said Ron, frowning. "I mean...it's still only a shape in the sky..."

"Ron, You-Know-Who and his followers sent the Dark Mark into the air whenever they killed," said Mr Weasley. "The terror it inspired...you have no idea, you're too young. Just picture coming home, and finding the Dark Mark hovering over your house, and knowing what you're about to find inside..." Mr Weasley winced. "Everyone's worst fear...the very worst..."

There was silence for a moment.

Then Bill, removing the sheet from his arm to check on his cut, said, "Well, it didn't help us tonight, whoever conjured it. It scared the Death Eaters away the moment they saw it. They all Disapparated before we'd got near enough to unmask any of them. We caught the Robertses before they hit the ground, though. They're having their memories modified right now."

"Death Eaters?" said Harry. "What are Death Eaters?"

"It's what You-Know-Who's supporters called themselves," said Bill. "I think we saw what's left of them tonight – the ones who managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban, anyway."

"We can't prove it was them, Bill," said Mr Weasley. "Though it probably was," he added hopelessly.

"Yeah, I bet it was!" said Ron suddenly. "Dad, we met Draco Malfoy in the woods, and he as good as told us his dad was one of those nutters in masks! And we all know the Malfoys were right in with You-Know-Who!"

"But what were Voldemort's supporters –" Harry began. Everybody but me flinched – like most of the wizarding world, the Weasleys always avoided saying Voldemort's name. I chose to emulate my grandfather and spoke the name like Harry did. "Sorry," said Harry quickly, though I didn't see a need for him to do so. "What were You-Know-Who's supporters up to, levitating Muggles? I mean, what was the point?"

"The point?" said Mr Weasley, with a hollow laugh. "Harry, that's their idea of fun. Half the Muggle killings back when You-Know-Who was in power were done for fun. I suppose they had a few drinks tonight and couldn't resist reminding us all that lots of them are still at large. A nice little reunion for them," he finished disgustedly.

"But if they were the Death Eaters, why did they Disapparate when they saw the Dark Mark?" said Ron. "They'd have been pleased to see it, wouldn't they?"

"Use your brains, Ron," said Bill. "If they really were Death Eaters, they worked really hard to keep out of Azkaban when You-Know-Who lost power, and told all sorts of lies about him forcing them to kill and torture people. I bet they'd be even more frightened than the rest of us to see him come back. They denied they'd ever been involved with him when he lost his powers, and went back to their daily lives...I don't reckon he'd be over-pleased with them, do you?"

"So...whoever conjured the Dark Mark..." said Hermione slowly, "were they doing it to show support for the Death Eaters, or to scare them away?"

"Your guess is as good as ours, Hermione," said Mr Weasley. "But I'll tell you this...it was only the Death Eaters who ever knew how to conjure it. I'd be very surprised if the person who did it hadn't been a Death Eater once, even if they're not now...Listen, it's very late, and if your mother hears what's happened she'll be worried sick. We'll get a few more hours' sleep and then try and get an early Portkey out of here."

I got back into my bunk with my head buzzing. I knew I ought to feel exhausted; it was nearly three in the morning, but I felt wide awake – wide awake, and worried.

Three days ago – it felt like much longer, but it had only been three days – I had awoken with my scar burning. And tonight, for the first time in thirteen years, Lord Voldemort's Mark had appeared in the sky. What did these things mean?

I thought of the letter I had written to my father before leaving Hermione's. Would Sirius have got it yet? When would he reply? Did this mean Harry really was in trouble! I lay looking up at the canvas, but it was a long time before I finally dozed off.

********************************************

In-line Comments

\- Ok let me know if this whole scenario makes sense! Haha been staring at it too long and was struggling with how to write in the additional accusations and assumptions etc etc so yeah...let me know what y'all thought!  
\- awww poor Kat, Amos does not seem to like her anymore lol


	68. Mayhem at the Ministry

Katrina's POV

Mr Weasley woke us after only a few hours' sleep. He used magic to pack up the tents, and we left the campsite as quickly as possible, passing Mr Roberts at the door of his cottage. Mr Roberts had a strange, dazed look about him, and he waved us off with a vague 'Merry Christmas'.

"He'll be all right," said Mr Weasley quietly, as we marched off onto the moor. "Sometimes, when a person's memory's modified, it makes them a bit disorientated for a while...and that was a big thing they had to make him forget."

We heard urgent voices as we approached the spot where the Portkeys lay and, when we reached it, we found a great number of witches and wizards gathered around Basil, the keeper of the Portkeys, all clamouring to get away from the campsite as quickly as possible. Mr Weasley had a hurried discussion with Basil; we joined the queue, and were able to take an old rubber tyre back to Stoatshead Hill before the sun had really risen. We walked back through Ottery St Catchpole towards The Burrow in the dawn light, talking very little because we were so exhausted, and thinking longingly of breakfast. As we rounded the corner in the lane, and The Burrow came into view, a cry echoed along the damp lane.

"Oh, thank goodness, thank goodness!"

Mrs Weasley, who had evidently been waiting for us in the front yard, came running towards us, still wearing her bedroom slippers, her face pale and strained, a screwed-up copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in her hand. "Arthur – I've been so worried – so worried –"

She flung her arms around Mr Weasley's neck, and the Daily Prophet fell out of her limp hand onto the ground. Looking down, I saw the headline: SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, complete with a twinkling, black-and-white photograph of the Dark Mark over the tree-tops.

"You're all right," Mrs Weasley muttered distractedly, releasing Mr Weasley and staring around at us all with red eyes, "you're alive...oh, boys..",

And to everybody's surprise, she seized Fred and George and pulled them both into such a tight hug that their heads banged together.

"Ouch! Mum – you're strangling us –"

"I shouted at you before you left!" Mrs Weasley said, starting to sob. "It's all I've been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough O.W.Ls? Oh, Fred... George..."

"Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly ok," said Mr Weasley soothingly, prising her off the twins and leading her back towards the house. "Bill," I heard him add in an undertone, "pick up that paper, I want to see what it says..."

When we were all crammed into the tiny kitchen, and Hermione and I had made Mrs Weasley a cup of very strong tea, into which Mr Weasley insisted on pouring a shot of Ogdens Old Firewhisky, Bill handed his father the newspaper. Mr Weasley scanned the front page while Percy looked over his shoulder.

"I knew it," said Mr Weasley heavily. "Ministry blunders...culprits not apprehended...lax security...Dark wizards running unchecked...national disgrace...Who wrote this? Ah...of course...Rita Skeeter."

"That woman's got it in for the Ministry of Magic!" said Percy furiously. "Last week she was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness, when we should be stamping out vampires! As if it wasn't specifically stated in paragraph twelve of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans –"

"Do us a favour, Perce," said Bill, yawning, "and shut up." I couldn't help but giggle at this and Bill flashed me a tired grin.

"I'm mentioned," said Mr Weasley, his eyes widening behind his glasses as he reached the bottom of the Daily Prophet article.

"Where?" spluttered Mrs Weasley, choking on her tea and whisky. "If I'd seen that, I'd have known you were alive!"

"Not by name," said Mr Weasley. "Listen to this: "If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged some time after the appearance of the Dark Mark, alleging that nobody had been hurt, but refusing to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumours that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later, remains to be seen." Oh, really," said Mr Weasley in exasperation, handing the paper to Percy. "Nobody was hurt, what was I supposed to say?" I notice Harry kept looking at me at this and rolled my eyes at him. I wasn't hurt that bad! My head felt perfectly fine now!

"Rumours that several bodies were removed from the woods...well, there certainly will be rumours now she's printed that."

He heaved a deep sigh. "Molly, I'm going to have to go into the office, this is going to take some smoothing over."

"I'll come with you, Father," said Percy importantly. "Mr Crouch will need all hands on deck. And I can give him my cauldron report in person." I frowned as he bustled out of the kitchen, but said nothing. I didn't like Mr Crouch very much.

Mrs Weasley looked most upset. "Arthur, you're supposed to be on holiday! This hasn't got anything to do with your office, surely they can handle this without you?"

"I've got to go, Molly," said Mr Weasley, "I've made things worse. I'll just change into my robes and I'll be off ..."

"Mrs Weasley," said Harry suddenly, "Hedwig hasn't arrived with a letter for me, has she?" I looked at him in confusion than realized what he was really asking. "Has Salazar showed up as well?" I asked eagerly.

"Hedwig, Salazar?" said Mrs Weasley distractedly. "No...no, there hasn't been any post at all."

Ron and Hermione looked curiously at Harry and I.

With a meaningful look at Ron, Hermione, and I, Harry said, "All right if I go and dump my stuff in your room, Ron?"

"Yeah...think I will, too," said Ron at once. "Hermione? Kat?"

"Yes," we said quickly, and the four of us marched out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"What's up, Harry?" said Ron, the moment we had closed the door of the attic room behind us.

"There's something I haven't told you"

"Hang on, Harry, there's something I haven't told you either!" The words burst forth before I had time to even think about what I was saying. But now that Harry looked as if he was about to share something big, I felt horrible for not having told him about my dream before now! I had to go first!

"On Saturday morning, I woke up with my scar hurting again!" I burst out. I paused as I noticed my words had a strange echo to them. I looked at Harry with wide eyes as I realized that he must have spoken at the same time I had.

"That's what I was gonna say!" We said at the same time.

"But that's not possible!" We said together again.

Ron and Hermione looked back and forth between us exasperatedly. Hermione, who already knew about my dream pointed to Harry and said, "you first, I've heard about Kat's dream already."

As Harry described his dream, my stomach clenched. It was clear we'd had the same one. What did that mean? Why had we had the same dream! Through my cloud of confusion, I did manage to note that Harry had refrained from telling Ron and Hermione who Voldemort had been trying to kill. Hermione,  
of course, noticed this as well, but kept quiet - as did I. It was clear Harry didn't want us worrying to much; not that he would be able to stop us from doing exactly that! Since neither Harry or I had mentioned the second target, the omission of that detail was only known by us two. Neither of us knew who the girl was, so it did not really make much of a difference.

Ron looked dumbstruck. "But – he wasn't there, was he? You-Know-Who? I mean – last time your scar kept hurting, he was at Hogwarts, wasn't he? And how come Kat had the same dream? What do you mean your scar hurt too! You don't have one! - do you?" It took a while for Harry and I to explain what Dumbledore had told us our first year. Ron looked so befuddled by it all it would have been hilarious under different circumstances. Hermione just nodded along, since I'd told her everything at the end of last year.

"It was only a dream," said Ron bracingly after he stopped staring from my scar to Harry's. Just a nightmare!"

"Yeah, but was it, though?" said Harry, turning to look out of the window at the brightening sky. "It's weird, isn't it...our scars hurt, and three days later the Death Eaters are on the march, and Voldemort's sign's up in the sky again." Harry looked sharply at me but decided not to mention my attempted kidnapping; for which I was grateful.

"Don't – say – his – name!" Ron hissed through gritted teeth.

"And remember what Professor Trelawney said?" Harry went on, ignoring Ron. "At the end of last year?"

Professor Trelawney was our Divination teacher at Hogwarts. Well not mine anymore since Hermione and I had quit the bloody subject.

Hermione's terrified look vanished as she let out a derisive snort. "Oh, Harry, you aren't going to pay any attention to anything that ol fraud says?" I nodded my head in agreement.

"You weren't there," said Harry. "You didn't hear her. This time was different. I told you, she went into a trance – a real one. And she said the Dark Lord would rise again...greater and more terrible than ever before with the help of his...well...and he'd manage it because his servant was going to go back to him...and that night Wormtail escaped."

There was a silence in which Ron fidgeted absent-mindedly with a hole in his Chudley Cannons bedspread.

"Why were you asking if Hedwig had come, Harry?" Hermione asked. I know Kat's expecting a letter but are you as well?"

"I told Sirius about my scar," said Harry, shrugging. "I'm waiting for his answer."

"Me too!" I said looking at Harry in surprise. It was still so bizarre to think that he'd had the exact same dream. I wanted to send another letter but knew I should wait for the first response to arrive.

"Good thinking!" said Ron, his expression clearing. "I bet Sirius'll know what to do!"

"I hoped he'd get back to me quickly," said Harry.

"But we don't know where Sirius is...he could be in Africa or somewhere, couldn't he?" said Hermione reasonably. "Neither Hedwig or Salazar are going to manage that journey in a few days."

"Yeah, I know," said Harry, but there was a leaden tone in his voice that mirrored the feeling in my stomach.

"Come on, let's have a game of Quidditch in the orchard!" said Ron. "Come on – four on four, Bill and Charlie and Fred and George will play...you can try out the Wronski Feint..."

"Ron," said Hermione, in an I-don't-think-you're-being-very-sensitive sort of voice, "Harry and Katrina don't want to play Quidditch right now...they're worried, and tired...we all need to go to bed..."

"Yeah, I want to play Quidditch," said Harry and I together again. "Hang on, we'll get our Firebolts." Hermione shook her head as I lead the way to Ginny's room to get my broom. On the way out, I managed to bump Harry's shoulder and whisper a quick, "Jinx!" before dashing down the stairs, his laughter ringing in my ear.

After a rousing game of quidditch; which Harry and I's team won by a landslide, we all decided to go up to the nearby lake and go for a swim. I hurried back into the house with Hermione and sorted through my trunk to find the one bathing suit I owned. I had bought it when Hermione and I went shopping for new clothes in the beginning of the summer. I changed quickly and shifted uncomfortably as I stood before the mirror. I had listened to Hermione and bought it, thinking it had looked fine at the time, but for some reason I felt anxious about wearing it now. I had never worn a two-piece before and wasn't used to showing so much skin!

Hermione just shook her head as she tossed our two towels over her shoulders. "Would you stop squirming! You look great! I can't wait to see the boys' reaction when they see you in that!

"Hermione!" I squealed nervously. I tugged my towel off her shoulder and wrapped it around me protectively as my cheeks went tomato red. She just laughed wickedly and tugged it off me and ran down the stairs before I could yank it back. I shouted after her as I raced down the stairs behind her but slowed as I approached the bottom. It sounded like we were the last down...everyone would be out there!

"Kat, hurry up and come out! It's hot and I wanna get swimming already " Hermione came back out and pulled me forward into the room. I looked down at the floor as the silence reverberated throughout the room. Hermione laughed again and 'kindly' handed me back my towel with the sweetest look on her face. I growled as I wrapped it back around me and chased her out of the house.

"Yeah, you better run!" I yelled angrily. She squealed as I tackled her to the ground and found all her most ticklish spots. It was time for my revenge. All too soon though, I found myself being picked up and carried up the hill. I glared up at the redhead who was caring me.

"Why is it, princess, whenever I see you, you're glaring at me!"

"Because, Charlie, you always give me a reason to!" I retorted, not liking the look on his face. I looked behind him to see him make eye-contact with Bill, who was carrying Hermione. Fred and George, I saw, were similarly holding onto Harry and Ron. Oh no, I definitely wasn't going to like this!

We all screamed as two minutes later we were dunked into freezing cold water. I gasped for air as I came up and stared evilly at Charlie and Bill; though I grinned and high-fived Fred and George at the same time for getting one up on Harry and Ron!

"You're turn!" I shouted as I pulled my target's feet out from under them. Bill and Charlie went down. I laughed as they splashed into the water and I swam quickly behind Fred and George.

"Have no fear, m'lady! You're gallant knights will protect you!" They shouted together as they dunked their older brothers back under the water.

********************************************

Neither Mr Weasley nor Percy was at home much over the following week. Both left the house each morning before the rest of the family got up, and returned well after dinner every night.

"It's been absolute uproar," Percy told us importantly, the Sunday evening before we were due to return to Hogwarts. "I've been putting out fires all week. People keep sending Howlers and of course, if you don't open a Howler straight away, it explodes. Scorch marks all over my desk and my best quill reduced to cinders."

"Why are they all sending Howlers?" asked Ginny, who was mending her copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi with Spellotape on the rug in front of the living-room fire.

"Complaining about security at the World Cup," said Percy. "They want compensation for their ruined property. Mundungus Fletcher's put in a claim for a twelve-bedroomed tent with en-suite jacuzzi, but I've got his number. I know for a fact he was sleeping under a cloak propped on sticks."

Mrs Weasley glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. I liked this clock. It was completely useless if you wanted to know the time, but otherwise very informative. It had nine golden hands, and each of them was engraved with one of the Weasley family's names. There were no numerals around the face, but descriptions of where each family member might be. 'Home', 'school' and 'work' were there, but there was also 'lost', 'hospital', 'prison' and, in the position where the number twelve would be on a normal clock, 'mortal peril'.

Eight of the hands were currently pointing at the 'home' position, but Mr Weasley's, which was the longest, was still pointing at 'work'. Mrs Weasley sighed.

"Your father hasn't had to go into the office on weekends since the days of You-Know-Who," she said. "They're working him far too hard. His dinner's going to be ruined if he doesn't come home soon."

"Well, Father feels he's got to make up for his mistake at the match, doesn't he?" said Percy. "If truth be told, he was a tad unwise to make a public statement without clearing it with his Head of Department first –"

"Don't you dare blame your father for what that wretched Skeeter woman wrote!" said Mrs Weasley, flaring up at once. I had to agree with her. How could Percy say such a thing! He was turning more and more into Mr Crouch with each passing day. It wouldn't be long before they were announcing their wedding date!

"If Dad hadn't said anything, old Rita would just have said it was disgraceful that nobody from the Ministry had commented," said Bill, who was playing chess with Ron. "Rita Skeeter never makes anyone look good. Remember, she interviewed all the Gringotts curse breakers once, and called me 'a long-haired pillock'?" I giggled and covered my mouth. Bill was always saying things that made me giggle! He was almost as funny as the twins! But with him, it was more laughing at people's reaction to his wild appearance rather than some prank he'd just pulled off like with the twins. I liked Bill's style though...I just wish I had as much guts to wear something so bold! I silently promised myself to start being more like Bill in that sense. Hermione and I had worked on my powers over the summer and I could now change my hair to any color I wanted; though I had yet to master anything else. I smiled as I thought of how much fun I was going to have - assuming I didn't chicken out and keep it it's normal color!

"Well, it is a bit long, dear," said Mrs Weasley gently. "If you'd just let me –"

"No, Mum."

Rain lashed against the living-room window. Hermione was immersed in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, copies of which Mrs Weasley had bought for her, Harry, Ron, and I in Diagon Alley. Charlie was darning a fireproof balaclava. Harry was polishing his Firebolt, the Broomstick Servicing Kit Hermione had given him for his thirteenth birthday open at his feet. Fred and George were sitting in a far corner, quills out, talking in whispers, their heads bent over a piece of parchment. I was sitting in the middle of the floor playing with Crookshanks and Drake. I made my little dragon promise to hold me to my goal to be more 'out there' this year.

"What are you two up to?"said Mrs Weasley sharply, I looked up from my conversation with Drake to see her eyes on the twins.

"Homework," said Fred vaguely.

"Don't be ridiculous, you're still on holiday," said Mrs Weasley.

"Yeah, we've left it a bit late," said George.

"You're not by any chance writing out a new order form, are you?" said Mrs Weasley shrewdly. "You wouldn't be thinking of restarting Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, by any chance?"

"Now, Mum," said Fred, looking up at her, a pained look on his face. "If the Hogwarts Express crashed tomorrow, and George and I died, how would you feel knowing that the last thing we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation?"

Everyone laughed, even Mrs Weasley.

"Oh, your father's coming!" she said suddenly, looking up at the clock again.

Mr Weasley's hand had suddenly spun from 'work' to 'travelling'; a second later it had shuddered to a halt on 'home' with the others, and we heard him calling from the kitchen.

"Coming, Arthur!" called Mrs Weasley, hurrying out of the room.

A few moments later, Mr Weasley had come into the warm living room, carrying his dinner on a tray. He looked completely exhausted.

"Well, the fat's really in the fire now," he told Mrs Weasley as he sat down in an armchair near the fire and toyed unenthusiastically with his somewhat shrivelled cauliflower. "Rita Skeeter's been ferreting around all week, looking for more Ministry mess-ups to report. And now she's found out about poor old Bertha going missing, so that'll be the headline in the Prophet tomorrow. I told Bagman he should have sent someone to look for her ages ago."

"Mr Crouch has been saying it for weeks and weeks," said Percy swiftly. I swear, wedding bells would be ringing soon for those two!

"Crouch is very lucky Rita hasn't found out about Winky," said Mr Weasley irritably. "There'd be a week's worth of headlines in his house-elf being caught holding the wand that conjured the Dark Mark."

"I thought we were all agreed that that elf, while irresponsible, did not conjure the Mark?" said Percy hotly.

"If you ask me, Mr Crouch is very lucky no one at the Daily Prophet knows how mean he is to elves!" said Hermione angrily.

"Now, look here, Hermione!" said Percy. "A high-ranking Ministry official like Mr Crouch deserves unswerving obedience from his servants –" I looked at Percy, astonished at the words that had just come out of his mouth. Beside me, Drake turned a fiery red color as he hissed at Percy as well.

"His slave, you mean!" said Hermione, her voice rising shrilly. "Because he didn't pay Winky, did he?"

"I think you'd all better go upstairs and check that you've packed properly!" said Mrs Weasley, breaking up the argument. "Come on, now, all of you..."

Hermione and I joined Ginny as we packed up all our things.

'It's been over a week,' I said, looking at Salazar's empty cage but not says anything else as Ginny was in the room. Hermione patted me on the back as she went to add her new textbooks to her trunk. I sighed again that night as I crossed my fingers and hoped for the millionth time that I would be getting a response soon.

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In-Line Comments

\- of course Harry knows the second target is Kat but he keeps it secret since he'd have to then tell her the full truth  
\- Rita Skeeter; ruining lives since before she was born...I'd love to hear what she would have to say about Percy! And what his response would be!  
\- yay! Now all three friends know about her scar! But the question is, what will happen if/when Rita finds out about it?  
\- hehe can't wait to start messing around with Kat's hair and transformations! (Though of course the latter will have to remain only when Ron, Harry, and or Hermione are around so only so far I can go with it rn) but still, should be fun!  
\- as always, comment your thoughts on this newest chapter! Tried to add my own little spin :) hope you enjoyed!


	69. Aboard the Hogwarts Express

AN - so sorry for the slow update! Been working on creating a interactive/visual version of this story on Episode! Check it out!

bit.ly/EpisodeHere #episode

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Katrina's POV

There was a definite end-of-the-holidays gloom in the air when I awoke next morning. Heavy rain was still splattering against the window as I got dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt; we would change into our school robes on the Hogwarts Express.

Hermione, Ginny, and I had just reached the first-floor landing on our way down to breakfast, when Mrs Weasley appeared at the foot of the stairs, looking harassed.

"Arthur!" she called up the staircase, "Arthur! Urgent message from the Ministry!"

I flattened myself against the wall as Mr Weasley came clattering past with his robes on back-to-front, and hurtled out of sight. When I and the others entered the kitchen, we saw Mrs Weasley rummaging anxiously in the dresser drawers – "I've got a quill here somewhere!" – and Mr Weasley bending over the fire, talking to –

I shut my eyes hard and opened them again to make sure that they were working properly.

Amos Diggory's head was sitting in the middle of the flames like a large bearded egg. It was talking very fast, completely unperturbed by the sparks flying around it and the flames licking its ears. I froze for a moment, not sure if this had to do with what happened at the Quidditch World Cup...was Amos here to take me away! I thought they'd decided I was innocent!

"...Muggle neighbors heard bangs and shouting, so they went and called those what-d'you-call-'ems – please-men. Arthur, you've got to get over there –"

I sighed in relief. It looked like this had nothing to do with me.

"Here!" said Mrs Weasley breathlessly, pushing a piece of parchment, a bottle of ink and a crumpled quill into Mr Weasley's hands.

"– it's a real stroke of luck I heard about it,' said Mr Diggory's head, "I had to come into the office early to send a couple of owls, and I found the Improper Use of Magic lot all setting off – if Rita Skeeter gets hold of this one, Arthur –"

"What does Mad-Eye say happened?" asked Mr Weasley, unscrewing the ink bottle, loading up his quill and preparing to take notes.

Mr Diggory's head rolled its eyes. "Says he heard an intruder in his yard. Says they were creeping towards the house, but they were ambushed by his dustbins."

"What did the dustbins do?" asked Mr Weasley, scribbling frantically.

"Made one hell of a noise and fired rubbish everywhere, as far as I can tell," said Mr Diggory. "Apparently one of them was still rocketing around when the please-men turned up –"

Mr Weasley groaned. "And what about the intruder?"

"Arthur, you know Mad-Eye," said Mr Diggory's head, rolling its eyes again. "Someone creeping into his yard at the dead of night? More likely there's a very shellshocked cat wandering around somewhere, covered in potato peelings. But if the Improper Use of Magic lot get their hands on Mad-Eye, he's had it – think of his record – we've got to get him off on a minor charge, something in your department – what are exploding dustbins worth?"

"Might be a caution," said Mr Weasley, still writing very fast, his brow furrowed. "Mad-Eye didn't use his wand? He didn't actually attack anyone?"

"I'll bet he leapt out of bed and started jinxing everything he could reach through the window," said Mr Diggory, "but they'll have a job proving it, there aren't any casualties."

"All right, I'm off," Mr Weasley said, and he stuffed the parchment with his notes on it into his pocket and dashed out of the kitchen again.

Mr Diggory's head looked around at Mrs Weasley.

"Sorry about this, Molly," it said, more calmly, "bothering you so early and everything...but Arthur's the only one who can get Mad-Eye off, and Mad-Eye's supposed to be starting his new job today. Why he had to choose last night..."

"Never mind, Amos," said Mrs Weasley. "Sure you won't have a bit of toast or anything before you go?"

"Oh, go on, then," said Mr Diggory.

Mrs Weasley took a piece of buttered toast from a stack on the kitchen table, put it into the fire tongs and transferred it into Mr Diggory's mouth.

"Fanks," he said in a muffled voice, and then, with a small pop, vanished.

I could hear Mr Weasley calling hurried goodbyes to Bill, Charlie, and Percy. Within five minutes, he was back in the kitchen, his robes on the right way now, dragging a comb through his hair.

"I'd better hurry – you have a good term, boys...and girl," said Mr Weasley to Harry, Ron, the twins, Hermione, Ginny, and I; dragging a cloak over his shoulders and preparing to Disapparate. "Molly, are you going to be all right taking the kids to King's Cross?"

"Of course I will," she said. "You just look after Mad-Eye, we'll be fine."

As Mr Weasley vanished, Bill and Charlie entered the kitchen.

"Did someone say Mad-Eye?" Bill asked. "What's he been up to now?"

"He says someone tried to break into his house last night," said Mrs Weasley.

"Mad-Eye Moody?" said George thoughtfully, spreading marmalade on his toast. "Isn't he that nutter –"

"Your father thinks very highly of Mad-Eye Moody," said Mrs Weasley sternly.

"Yeah, well, Dad collects plugs, doesn't he?" said Fred quietly, as Mrs Weasley left the room. "Birds of a feather..."

"Moody was a great wizard in his time," said Bill.

"He's an old friend of Dumbledore's, isn't he?" said Charlie. I looked up at the mention of my grandfather.

"Dumbledore's not what you'd call normal, though, is he?" said Fred. "I mean, I know he's a genius and everything..."

I opened my mouth to scold him, but realized it might only raise questions.

"Who is Mad-Eye?" asked Harry.

"He's retired, used to work at the Ministry," said Charlie. "I met him once when Dad took me into work with him. He was an Auror – one of the best...a Dark-wizard-catcher," he added, seeing Harry's blank look. "Half the cells in Azkaban are full because of him. He made himself loads of enemies, though...the families of people he caught, mainly...and I heard he's been getting really paranoid in his old age. Doesn't trust anyone any more. Sees Dark wizards everywhere."

Bill and Charlie decided to come and see us off at King's Cross station, but Percy, apologising most profusely, said that he really needed to get to work. Well whatever his brothers had to say about him, you couldn't question his work ethic. It was impeccable.

"I just can't justify taking more time off at the moment," he told us. "Mr Crouch is really starting to rely on me."

"Yeah, you know what, Percy?" said George seriously. "I reckon he'll know your name soon." I couldn't help but chuckle at this.

Mrs Weasley had braved the telephone in the village Post Office to order three ordinary Muggle taxis to take us into London.

"Arthur tried to borrow Ministry cars for us," Mrs Weasley whispered to Harry and I as we stood in the rain-washed yard, watching the taxi drivers heaving seven heavy Hogwarts trunks into their cars. "But there weren't any to spare...oh dear, they don't look happy, do they?"

I didn't like to tell Mrs Weasley that Muggle taxi drivers rarely transported over-excited owls, and Pigwidgeon was making an ear-splitting racket. Nor did it help that a number of Dr Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks went off unexpectedly when Fred's trunk sprang open, causing the driver carrying it to yell with fright and pain as Crookshanks clawed his way up the man's leg. Drake, Salazar, and Hedwig remained calm and collected the entire time of course!

The journey was uncomfortable, owing to the fact that we were jammed in the back of the taxis with our trunks. Crookshanks took quite a while to recover from the fireworks, and by the time we entered London, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I were all severely scratched. We were very relieved to get out at King's Cross, even though the rain was coming down harder than ever, and we got soaked carrying our trunks across the busy road and into the station.

I was used to getting onto platform nine and three-quarters by now. It was a simple matter of walking straight through the apparently solid barrier dividing platforms nine and ten. The only tricky part was doing this in an unobtrusive way, so as to avoid attracting Muggle attention. We did it in groups today; Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I (the most conspicuous, as we were accompanied by Pigwidgeon, Hedwig, Salazar, and Crookshanks - Drake was making his own way to the castle as he would have caused chaos) went first; we leant casually against the barrier, chatting unconcernedly, and slid sideways through it...and as we did so, platform nine and three-quarters materialised in front of us.

The Hogwarts Express, a gleaming scarlet steam engine, was already there, clouds of steam billowing from it, through which the many Hogwarts students and parents on the platform appeared like dark ghosts. Pigwidgeon became noisier than ever in response to the hooting of many owls through the mist. We set off to find seats, and were soon stowing their luggage in a compartment halfway along the train. We then hopped back down onto the platform, to say goodbye to Mrs Weasley, Bill and Charlie.

"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," said Charlie, grinning, as he hugged me goodbye.

"Why?" said Fred keenly.

"You'll see," said Charlie. "Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it...it's "'classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it' after all."

"Yeah, I sort of wish I was back at Hogwarts this year," said Bill, hands in his pockets, looking almost wistfully at the train.

"Why?" said George impatiently.

"You're going to have an interesting year," said Bill, his eyes twinkling. "I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it..."

"A bit of what?" said Ron.

But at that moment, the whistle blew, and Mrs Weasley chivvied us towards the train doors.

"Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs Weasley," I said as we climbed on board, closed the door and leant out of the window to talk to her.

"Yeah, thanks for everything, Mrs Weasley," said Harry from my side.

"Oh, it was my pleasure, dears," said Mrs Weasley. "I'd invite you for Christmas, but...well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with...one thing and another."

"Mum!" said Ron irritably. "What d'you three know that we don't?"

"You'll find out this evening, I expect," said Mrs Weasley, smiling. "It's going to be very exciting – mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules –"

"What rules?" said Harry, Ron, Fred and George together.

"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you...now, behave, won't you? Won't you, Fred? And you, George?"

The pistons hissed loudly, and the train began to move.

"Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts!" Fred bellowed out of the window, as Mrs Weasley, Bill and Charlie sped away from us. "What rules are they changing?"

But Mrs Weasley only smiled and waved. Before the train had rounded the corner, she, Bill and Charlie had Disapparated.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I went back to our compartment. The thick rain splattering the windows made it very difficult to see out of them. Ron undid his trunk, pulled out his maroon dress robes, and flung them over Pigwidgeon's cage to muffle his hooting.

"Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts," he said grumpily, sitting down next to Harry. "At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what –"

"Shh!" Hermione whispered suddenly, pressing her finger to her lips and pointing towards the compartment next to ours. We listened, and heard a familiar drawling voice drifting in through the open door.

"...Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the Headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore – the man's such a Mudblood-lover – and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riff-raff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defence rubbish we do ..."

I clenched my teeth in anger as I heard the way he was talking about my grandfather. The little ferret! One of these days he was going to get burned!

Hermione got up, tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out Malfoy's voice.

"So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?" she said angrily. "I wish he had gone, then we wouldn't have had to put up with him."

"Durmstrang's another wizarding school?" said Harry.

"Yes," said Hermione sniffily, "and it's got a horrible reputation. According to An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe, it puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts."

"I think I've heard of it," said Ron vaguely. "Where is it? What country?"

"Well, nobody knows, do they?" I said, raising my eyebrows.

"Er – why not?" said Harry.

"There's traditionally been a lot of rivalry between all the magic schools. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons like to conceal their whereabouts so nobody can steal their secrets," answered Hermione for me.

"Come off it," said Ron, starting to laugh. "Durmstrang's got to be about the same size as Hogwarts, how are you going to hide a dirty great castle?"

"But Hogwarts is hidden," said Hermione, in surprise, "everyone knows that...well, everyone who's read Hogwarts: A History, anyway."

"Just you and Kat, then," said Ron. "So go on – how d'you hide a place like Hogwarts?"

"It's bewitched," I said. "If a Muggle looks at it, all they see is a mouldering old ruin with a sign over the entrance saying DANGER, DO NOT ENTER, UNSAFE."

"So Durmstrang'll just look like a ruin to an outsider, too?"

"Maybe," said Hermione, shrugging, "or it might have Muggle-Repelling Charms on it, like the World Cup Stadium. And to keep foreign wizards from finding it, they'll have made it Unplottable –"

"Come again?"

"Well, you can enchant a building so it's impossible to plot on a map, can't you?" I explained.

"Er...if you say so," said Harry.

"But I think Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north," said Hermione thoughtfully. "Somewhere very cold, because they've got fur capes as part of their uniforms."

"Ah, think of the possibilities," said Ron dreamily. "It would've been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident...shame his mother likes him..."

The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved further north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. The lunch trolley came rattling along the corridor, and Harry bought a large stack of Cauldron Cakes for us to share.

Several of out friends looked in on us as the afternoon progressed, including Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas and Neville Longbottom. Seamus was still wearing his Ireland rosette and he and Seamus kept glancing at me strangely the entire time. It was a little off putting. Some of the rosette's magic seemed to be wearing off now; it was still squeaking 'Troy! Mullet! Moran!', but in a very feeble and exhausted sort of way.

After half an hour or so, Hermione, growing tired of the endless Quidditch talk, buried herself once more in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, and started trying to learn a Summoning Charm.

I noticed Neville listening jealously to our' conversation as we relived the Cup match.

"Gran didn't want to go," he said miserably. "Wouldn't buy tickets. It sounded amazing, though."

"It was," said Ron. "Look at this, Neville..."

He rummaged in his trunk up in the luggage rack, and pulled out the miniature figure of Viktor Krum.

"Oh, wow," said Neville enviously, as Ron tipped Krum onto his pudgy hand.

"We saw him right up close, as well," said Ron. "We were in the Top Box –"

"For the first and last time in your life, Weasley."

Draco Malfoy had appeared in the doorway. Behind him stood Crabbe and Goyle, his enormous, thuggish cronies, both of whom appeared to have grown at least a foot during the summer. Evidently they had overheard the conversation through the compartment door, which Dean and Seamus had left ajar.

"Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," said Harry coolly.

"Weasley...what is that?" said Draco, pointing at Pigwidgeon's cage. A sleeve of Ron's dress robes was dangling from it, swaying with the motion of the train, the mouldy lace cuff very obvious.

Ron made to stuff the robes out of sight, but Draco was too quick for him; he seized the sleeve and pulled.

"Look at this!" said Draco in ecstasy, holding up Ron's robes and showing Crabbe and Goyle. "Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean – they were very fashionable in about 1890..."

"Eat dung, Malfoy!" said Ron, the same colour as the dress robes as he snatched them back out of Draco's grip. Draco howled with derisive laughter; Crabbe and Goyle guffawed stupidly.

"So...going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well, you know...you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won..." Draco noticed me glaring angrily at him and hesitated.

"What are you talking about?" snapped Ron.

"Are you going to enter?" Malfoy repeated. "I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?"

"Either explain what you're on about or go away, Malfoy," said Hermione testily, over the top of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4.

A gleeful smile spread across Draco's pale face.

"Don't tell me you don't know?" he said delightedly. "You've got a father and brother at the Ministry and you don't even know? My God, my father told me about it ages ago...heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry...maybe your father's too junior to know about it, Weasley...yes...they probably don't talk about important stuff in front of him..."

Laughing once more, Draco beckoned to Crabbe and Goyle, and the three of them disappeared.

Ron got to his feet and slammed the sliding compartment door so hard behind them that the glass shattered.

"Ron!" said Hermione reproachfully, and she pulled out her wand, muttered "Reparo!", and the glass shards flew back into a single pane, and back into the door.

"Well...making it look like he knows everything and we don't..." Ron snarled. "Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry...Dad could've got promoted any time...he just likes it where he is..."

"Of course he does," said Hermione quietly. "Don't let Malfoy get to you, Ron –"

"Him! Get to me! As if!" said Ron, picking up one of the remaining Cauldron Cakes and squashing it into a pulp.

Ron's bad mood continued for the rest of the journey. He didn't talk much as we changed into our school robes, and was still glowering when the Hogwarts Express slowed down at last, and finally stopped in the pitch-darkness of Hogsmeade station.

As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. Hermione bundled Crookshanks up in her cloak and Ron left his dress robes over Pigwidgeon as we left the train, heads bent and eyes narrowed against the downpour. Harry threw his arm around me and pulled me in close.

The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over our heads.

"Hi, Hagrid!" Harry yelled, as we spotted a gigantic silhouette at the far end of the platform.

"All righ', Harry, Katrina?" Hagrid bellowed back, waving. "See yeh at the feast if we don' drown!"

First-years traditionally reached Hogwarts castle by sailing across the lake with Hagrid.

"Oooh, I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather," said Hermione fervently, shivering as we inched slowly along the dark platform with the rest of the crowd. A hundred horseless carriages stood waiting for us outside the station. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and I climbed gratefully into one of them, the door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track towards Hogwarts castle.

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In-Line Comments

\- Don't worry Draco and Kat will go back to being on good terms at some point :)  
\- so excited - the story is finally about to really get started in the next few chapters!  
\- as always, comment share and continue to enjoy


	70. The Triwizard Tournament

Katrina's POV

Through the gates, flanked with statues of winged boars, and up the sweeping drive the carriages trundled, swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale. Leaning against the window, I could see Hogwarts coming nearer, its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering behind the thick curtain of rain. Lightning flashed across the sky as our carriage came to a halt before the great oak front doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps.

People who had occupied the carriages in front were already hurrying up the stone steps into the castle; Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and I jumped down from our carriage and dashed up the steps too, looking up only when we were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit Entrance Hall, with its magnificent marble staircase.

"Blimey," said Ron, shaking his head and sending water everywhere, "if that keeps up, the lake's going to overflow. I'm soak– ARGH!"

A large, red, water-filled balloon had dropped from out of the ceiling onto Ron's head, and exploded. Drenched and spluttering, Ron staggered sideways into Harry, just as a second water bomb dropped – narrowly missing Hermione, it burst at Harry's feet, sending a wave of cold water over his trainers into his socks. People all around us shrieked and started pushing each other in their efforts to get out of the line of fire – I looked up, and saw, floating twenty feet above them, Peeves the poltergeist, a little man in a bell-covered hat and orange bow-tie, his wide, malicious face contorted with concentration as he took aim again. I laughed and gave him a thumbs up as I ducked behind a stone statue. He grinned and winked at me as he swooped over our heads again.

"PEEVES!" yelled an angry voice. "Peeves, come down here at ONCE!"

Professor McGonagall, deputy headmistress and Head of Gryffindor house, had come dashing out of the Great Hall; she skidded on the wet floor and grabbed Hermione around the neck to stop herself falling. "Ouch – sorry, Miss Granger –"

"That's all right, Professor!" Hermione gasped, massaging her throat.

"Peeves, get down here NOW!" barked Minnie, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upwards through her square-rimmed spectacles.

"Not doing nothing!" cackled Peeves, lobbing a water bomb at several fifth-year girls, who screamed and dived into the Great Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!" And he aimed another bomb at a group of second-years who had just arrived. I covered my mouth with my hand as I tried not to laugh.

"I shall call the Headmaster!" shouted Professor McGonagall. "I'm warning you, Peeves –"

Peeves stuck out his tongue, threw the last of his water bombs into the air, and zoomed off up the marble staircase, cackling insanely.

"Well, move along, then!" said Professor McGonagall sharply to the bedraggled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!"

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I slipped and slid across the Entrance Hall and through the double doors on the right, Ron muttering furiously under his breath as he pushed his sopping hair off his face.

The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in mid-air. The four long house tables were packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils. It was much warmer in here. We walked past the Slytherins, the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs, and sat down with the rest of the Gryffindors at the far side of the Hall, next to Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost. Pearly white and semi-transparent, Nick was dressed tonight in his usual doublet, with a particularly large ruff, which served the dual purpose of looking extra festive and ensuring that his head didn't wobble too much on his partially severed neck.

"Good evening," he said, beaming at us.

"Says who?" said Harry, taking off his trainers and emptying them of water. "Hope they hurry up with the Sorting, I'm starving."

Just then, a highly excited, breathless voice called down the table, "Hiya, Harry! Hiya Kat!"

It was Colin Creevey, a third-year to whom Harry and I were something of a hero.

"Hi, Colin," said Harry warily.

'Harry, Katrina, guess what? Guess what, my brother's starting! My brother Dennis!"

"Er – good," said Harry and I.

"He's really excited!" said Colin, practically bouncing up and down in his seat. "I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry, eh, Katrina?"

"Er – yeah, all right," we said. Harry turned back to Hermione, Ron and Nearly Headless Nick. "Brothers and sisters usually go in the same houses, don't they?" he said. I could tell he was judging by the Weasleys, all seven of whom had been put into Gryffindor.

"Oh, no, not necessarily," said Hermione. "Parvati Patil's twin's in Ravenclaw, and they're identical, you'd think they'd be together, wouldn't you?"

I looked up at the staff table. There seemed to be rather more empty seats there than usual. Hagrid, of course, was still fighting his way across the lake with the first-years; Professor McGonagall was presumably supervising the drying of the Entrance Hall floor, but there was another empty chair, too, where our new DADA teacher should be.

"Where's the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Hermione, who was also looking up at the teachers.

We had never yet had a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who had lasted more than three terms. My favourite by far had been Professor Lupin, who had resigned last year. I looked up and down the staff table. There was definitely no new face there.

"Maybe they couldn't get anyone!" said Hermione, looking anxious.

I scanned the table more carefully. Tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was sitting on a large pile of cushions beside Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, whose hat was askew over her flyaway grey hair. She was talking to Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department. On Professor Sinistra's other side was my godfather, Severus Snape – Harry's least favourite person at Hogwarts. Harry's loathing of Snape was matched only by Snape's hatred of him, a hatred which had, if possible, intensified last year, when Harry had helped my father, Sirius, escape right under Sev's nose – Snape and Sirius had been enemies since their own schooldays. As for me, I just wished they could all get along!

On Sev's other side was an empty seat, which I guessed was Minnie's. Next to it, and in the very centre of the table, sat my grandfather, the Headmaster, his sweeping silver hair and beard shining in the candlelight, his magnificent deep-green robes embroidered with many stars and moons. The tips of Dumbledore's long, thin fingers were together and he was resting his chin upon them, staring up at the ceiling through his half-moon spectacles as though lost in thought.

I glanced up at the ceiling, too. It was enchanted to look like the sky outside, and I had never seen it look this stormy. Black and purple clouds were swirling across it, and as another thunderclap sounded outside, a fork of lightning flashed across it.

"Oh, hurry up," Ron moaned, beside Harry. "I could eat a Hippogriff." I frowned as I thought of my mother; who lived on in the body of a hippogriff.

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the doors of the Great Hall opened, and silence fell. Professor McGonagall was leading a long line of first-years up to the top of the Hall. If Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I were wet, it was nothing to how these first-years looked. They appeared to have swum across the lake rather than sailing. All of them were shivering with a combination of cold and nerves as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school – all of them except the smallest of the lot, a boy with mousey hair, who was wrapped in what I recognised as Hagrid's moleskin overcoat. The coat was so big for him that it looked as though he was draped in a furry black marquee. His small face protruded from over the collar, looking almost painfully excited. When he had lined up with his terrified-looking peers, he caught Colin Creevey's eye, gave a double thumbs-up and mouthed, "I fell in the lake!" He looked positively delighted about it.

Professor McGonagall now placed a three-legged stool on the ground before the first-years and, on top of it, an extremely old, dirty, patched wizard's hat.

The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished.

"That's not the song it sang when it sorted us," said Harry, clapping along with everyone else.

"Sings a different one every year," said Ron. "It's got to be a pretty boring life, hasn't it, being a hat? I suppose it spends all year making up the next one."

Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment.

"When I call out your name, you will put on the Hat and sit on the stool," she told the first-years. "When the Hat announces your house, you will go and sit at the appropriate table. I slumped in my chair as I watched each first year get sorted. I couldn't help but resent the fact that I had never had the honor or getting sorted myself.

I clapped half heartedly along with the Gryffindors, as Dennis Creevey was sorted into Gryffindor and joined his brother. I frowned though as I heard them whispering and looking at Harry and I. I looked away hurriedly and tried to refocus on the sorting, but that didn't make me feel any better.

The Sorting continued; boys and girls with varying degrees of fright on their faces moving, one by one, to the three-legged stool, the line dwindling slowly as Professor McGonagall passed the 'L's.

Ron was complaining about being hungry and I kicked him under the table as he got into an argument with Nearly Headless Nick.

And finally, with "Whitby, Kevin!" ('Hufflepuff!') the Sorting ended. Professor McGonagall picked up the Hat and the stool, and carried them away.

"About time," said Ron, seizing his knife and fork and looking expectantly at his golden plate.

Professor Dumbledore had got to his feet. He was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome.

"I have only two words to say to you," he told us, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. "Tuck in."

"Hear, hear!" said Harry and Ron loudly, as the empty dishes filled magically before their eyes.

Nearly Headless Nick watched mournfully as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I loaded our plates.

"Aaah, 'at's be'er," said Ron, with his mouth full of mashed potato.

"You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know," said Nearly Headless Nick. "There was trouble in the kitchens earlier."

"Why? Wha' 'appened?" said Harry, through a sizeable chunk of steak.

"Peeves, of course," said Nearly Headless Nick, shaking his head, which wobbled dangerously. He pulled his ruff a little higher up his neck. "The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast – well, it's quite out of the question, you know what he's like, utterly uncivilised, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghosts' council – the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance – but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down."

The Bloody Baron was the Slytherin ghost, a gaunt and silent spectre covered in silver bloodstains. He was the only person besides me at Hogwarts who could really control Peeves.

"Yeah, we thought Peeves seemed hacked off about something," said Ron darkly. "So what did he do in the kitchens?"

"Oh, the usual," said Nearly Headless Nick, shrugging. "Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits –"

Clang. Hermione had knocked over her golden goblet. Pumpkin juice spread steadily over the tablecloth, staining several feet of white linen orange, but Hermione paid no attention.

"There are house-elves here?" she said, staring, horror-struck, at Nearly Headless Nick. "Here at Hogwarts?"

"Certainly," said Nearly Headless Nick, looking surprised at her reaction. "The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred."

"I've never seen one!" said Hermione.

"Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they?" said Nearly Headless Nick. "They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning...see to the fires and so on...I mean, you're not supposed to see them, are you? That's the mark of a good house-elf, isn't it, that you don't know it's there?"

Hermione stared at him.

"But they get paid?" she said. "They get holidays, don't they? And – and sick leave, and pensions and everything?"

Nearly Headless Nick chortled so much that his ruff slipped and his head flopped off, dangling on the inch or so of ghostly skin and muscle that still attached it to his neck.

"Sick leave and pensions?" he said, pushing his head back onto his shoulders and securing it once more with his ruff. "House-elves don't want sick leave and pensions!"

Hermione looked down at her hardly touched plate of food, then put her knife and fork down upon it and pushed it away from her.

"Oh, c'mon, 'Er-my-knee," said Ron, accidentally spraying Harry with bits of Yorkshire pudding. "Oops – sorry, 'Arry –" He swallowed. "You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself!"

"Slave labour," said Hermione, breathing hard through her nose. "That's what made this dinner. Slave labour."

"Oh, come on, Hermione!" I said rolling my eyes and lowering my voice. "Grandfather treats them very well! He's offered to pay them and give them weekends off but they refuse! House elves like the work!"

Hermione stared at me. "You mean you knew!"

"Of course I know there are house elves at Hogwarts! I ran across them last year. How do you think I got the food for our little sleepover at the end of year?" Hermione glared at me and refused to eat another bite no matter how hard I tried to cajole her into it.

The rain was still drumming heavily against the high, dark windows. Another clap of thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the golden plates as the remains of the first course vanished and were replaced, instantly, with puddings.

"Treacle tart, Hermione!" said Ron, deliberately wafting its smell towards her. "Spotted dick, look! Chocolate gateau!"

But Hermione gave him a look so reminiscent of Professor McGonagall that he gave up.

When the puddings, too, had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.

"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at us all. "Now that we are all fed and watered" ('Hmph!' said Hermione), "I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

The corners of grandfather's mouth twitched.

He continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the inter-house Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"What?" Harry and I gasped. We looked around at Fred and George, our fellow members of the Quidditch team. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak.

Grandfather continued, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy – but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts –"

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder, and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black travelling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swivelled towards the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark grey hair, then began to walk up towards the teachers' table.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right and limped heavily towards Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Hermione and I gasped.

The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any I had ever seen. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces were supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening.

One of them was small, dark and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye – and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all we could see was whiteness.

The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words I couldn't hear. He seemed to be making some enquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded, and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark grey hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages towards him, raised it to what was left of his nose and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.

"May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," said grandfather brightly, into the silence. "Professor Moody."

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students clapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid. Both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him.

"Moody?" Harry muttered to Ron. "Mad-Eye Moody? The one your dad went to help this morning?"

"Must be," said Ron, in a low, awed voice.

"What happened to him?" Hermione whispered. "What happened to his face?"

"Dunno," Ron whispered back, watching Moody with fascination.

Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his travelling cloak, pulled out a hip-flask, and took a long draught from it. As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and I saw, below the table, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot.

Dumbledore cleared his throat again.

"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event which has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" said Fred Weasley loudly.

The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke.

Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

"I am not joking, Mr Weasley," he said, "though, now you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag and a leprechaun who all go into a bar –"

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Er – but maybe this is not the time...no..." said Dumbledore. "Where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament...well, some of you will not know what this Tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely. The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago, as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry – Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the Tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities – until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the Tournament was discontinued."

"Death toll?" Hermione whispered, looking alarmed. But her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall; many of them were whispering excitedly with each other.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which have been very successful. However, our own Departments of International Magical Co-operation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that, this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger. The Heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it!" Fred Weasley hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He was not the only person who seemed to be visualising themself as Hogwarts champion. At every house table, I could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbours. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quietened once more.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the Heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age – that is to say, seventeen years or older – will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This" – Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious – "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the Tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His light-blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred and George's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October, and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Grandfather sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet, and swarmed towards the double doors into the Entrance Hall.

"They can't do that!" said George Weasley, who had not joined the crowd moving towards the door, but was standing up and glaring at Dumbledore. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?"

"They're not stopping me entering," said Fred stubbornly, also scowling at the top table. "The champions'll get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!"

"Yeah," said Ron, a faraway look on his face. "Yeah, a thousand Galleons..."

"Come on," said Hermione, "we'll be the only ones left here if you don't move."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and I set off for the Entrance Hall, Fred and George debating the ways in which Dumbledore might stop those who were under seventeen entering the Tournament.

"Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" said Harry.

"Dunno," said Fred, "but it's them we'll have to fool. I reckon a couple of drops of Ageing Potion might do it, George..."

"Dumbledore knows you're not of age, though," said Ron.

"Yeah, but he's not the one who decides who the champion is, is he?" said Fred shrewdly. "Sounds to me like once this judge knows who wants to enter, he'll choose the best from each school and never mind how old they are. Dumbledore's trying to stop us giving our names."

"People have died, though!" said Hermione and I worried, as we walked through a door concealed behind a tapestry and started up another, narrower staircase.

"Yeah," said Fred airily, "but that was years ago, wasn't it? Anyway, where's the fun without a bit of risk? Hey, Ron, what if we find out how to get round Dumbledore? Fancy entering?"

"What d'you reckon?" Ron asked Harry and I. "Be cool to enter, wouldn't it? But I s'pose they might want someone older...dunno if we've learnt enough..."

"I definitely haven't," came Neville's gloomy voice from behind Fred and George. "I expect my gran'd want me to try, though, she's always going on about how I should be upholding the family honour. I'll just have to – ooops..."

Neville's foot had sunk right through a step halfway up the staircase. There were many of these trick stairs at Hogwarts; it was second nature to most of the older students to jump this particular step, but Neville's memory was notoriously poor. Harry and Ron seized him under the armpits and pulled him out, while a suit of armour at the top of the stairs creaked and clanked, laughing wheezily.

"Shut it, you," said Ron, banging down its visor as we passed.

We made our way up to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, which was concealed behind a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said, as we approached.

"Balderdash," said George, "a Prefect downstairs told me."

The portrait swung forwards to reveal a hole in the wall, through which we all climbed. A crackling fire was warming the circular common room, which was full of squashy armchairs and tables. Hermione cast the merrily dancing flames a dark look, and I distinctly heard her mutter 'slave labour', before bidding us goodnight, and disappearing through the doorway to the girls' dormitories.

I turned to Harry, Ron, and Neville and said a hurried goodnight to them before I dashed back out of the portrait hole and off to my own room. It wasn't too far from Gryffindor tower and it was barely five minutes before I was flopping onto my bed. I sighed deeply and went to unpack my things and prepare for tomorrow. I liked to have set everything up the night before so that I had less to do in the morning when I woke up.

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In-Line Comments

\- sorry for the semi-late update! Just been busy trying to find a new apartment by the end of the month! Still looking and then I'll be moving so I'll try and post as often as I can. Some people have wanted me to start working on my Charmed story as well so I may or may not take a quick break to work on that one.  
\- not too much original story in these next few chapters while we are waiting for the big news but I'll try and put in as much Malloy, Cedric, and Neville scenes as I can fit in comfortably :)  
\- as always let me know what you think!


	71. Mad-Eye Moody

AN - Hey everyone, like I said the last chapter didn't have too much original content bc I couldn't think of anything to really include in it and I was focused on getting out another chapter and setting up the tournament info since it had been a while - I promise this next chapter should be a lot better. Kat will be exploring her powers more and I'll be doing my best to incorporate more Harry, Draco, and Cedric scenes as requested so hope you enjoy this next chapter!

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Katrina's POV

I woke up the next morning and groaned sleepily as I slipped into the shower. The hot water hitting my body helped wake me up and by the time I stepped out and dried myself off, I felt ready for the day. I stood in front of the mirror and brushed out my hair before staring at my reflection. After a long pause, I closed my eyes and concentrated. When I opened my eyes I grinned at myself happily, liking what I saw. I grabbed my bag and dashed off towards the Gryffindor tower.

I knocked on Harry and Ron's dormitory room door but got no answer. I sighed and entered the room anyways and rolled my eyes at the view before me. Boys! They really needed to start waking up on time! I walked over to Harry and tried to shake him awake but he just rolled over and continued to sleep. I went over to Ron's bed but was no more successful.

I tapped my foot on the floor as I thought of the "best" way to wake them up - then grinned as I settled on what I thought would be the best way.

Harry's POV

I woke up with a startled and high-pitched squeak as something heavy jumped up and down on my chest. My eyes widened in fear and I toppled off my bed as I stared in horror at the blue wolf that had now hopped from my bed and onto Ron's. I hurriedly reached for my glasses as Ron emitted a screech similar to mine before landing on the floor with a loud thump. I grabbed my wand and pointed it at the wolf before my brain finally caught up with me. The creature was blue!

I smacked my forehead and lowered my wand as I started to laugh. The creature let a soft growl before shifting back into Katrina. She bent down to help Ron up from the floor but was laughing so hard that she let him drop halfway. By the time the three of us had exited the dormitory, we were all laughing uncontrollably.

I glanced at Kat and smiled.

"I like the new look, Kat." I grinned as she reached up nervously and wrapped a strand of hair around her finger.

"You sure it's not too much? I just wanted to try something new and more out there, ya know?"

"You look perfect, Kat. You always do!" My face heated up as I realized what I'd just said. "Um, we should probably get down to breakfast!" I said quickly changing the topic.

Katrina's POV

Though the storm had blown itself out, the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy; heavy clouds of pewter grey swirled overhead as we met up with Hermione and examined our new timetables at breakfast. A few seats along, Fred, George and Lee Jordan were discussing magical methods of ageing themselves and bluffing their way into the Triwizard Tournament.

I shook my head at them. I couldn't see what all the fuss was about. The tournament sounded dangerous. I would hate to have to compete in it! No amount of public glory was worth potentially dying or getting seriously injured!

As I looked around the room, I noted a lot of students staring at me and my new electric blue hair. I shifted nervously in my seat but forced my back to stay straight as I remembered this was partially why I had done it. I needed to confront my fears not hide from them. I smiled as I was complimented on the new look by many of the students from various houses. It was small, but it was a start.

"Today's not bad...outside all morning," said Ron, who was running his finger down his timetable, "Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures...damn it, we're still with the Slytherins..."

"Double Divination this afternoon," Harry groaned. I giggled at the expression on his face. I was so happy I no longer had to take that class! Professor Trelawney kept predicting mine and Harry's death, which we both found extremely annoying.

"You should have given it up like me and Kat, shouldn't you?" said Hermione briskly, buttering herself some toast. "Then you'd be doing something sensible like Arithmancy."

"You're eating again, I notice," said Ron, watching Hermione add liberal amounts of jam to her buttered toast.

"I've decided there are better ways of making a stand about elf rights," said Hermione haughtily.

"Yeah...and you were hungry," I teased her as I bumped her shoulder with my elbow.

There was a sudden rustling noise above us, and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows, carrying the morning mail. Instinctively, Harry and I looked up, but there was no sign of white or black among the mass of brown and grey. The owls circled the tables, looking for the people to whom their letters and packages were addressed. A large tawny owl soared down to Neville Longbottom and deposited a parcel in his lap – Neville almost always forgot to pack something.

On the other side of the Hall Draco Malfoy's eagle owl had landed on his shoulder, carrying what looked like his usual supply of sweets and cakes from home. Trying to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment in my stomach, I returned to my bagel and strawberry cream cheese. Was it possible that something had happened to Salazar? and that Sirius hadn't even got my letter?

My preoccupation lasted all the way across the sodden vegetable path until we arrived in greenhouse three, but here I was distracted by Professor Sprout showing the class the ugliest plants I had ever seen. Indeed, they looked less like plants than thick black giant slugs, protruding vertically out of the soil. Each was squirming slightly, and had a number of large, shiny swellings upon it, which appeared to be full of liquid.

"Bubotubers," Professor Sprout told us briskly. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus –"

"The what?" said Seamus Finnigan, sounding revolted.

"Pus, Finnigan, pus," said Professor Sprout, "and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves, it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, Bubotuber pus."

Squeezing the Bubotubers was disgusting, but oddly satisfying. As each swelling was popped, a large amount of thick yellowish green liquid burst forth, which smelled strongly of petrol. We caught it in the bottles as Professor Sprout had indicated, and by the end of the lesson had collected several pints.

"This'll keep Madam Pomfrey happy," said Professor Sprout, stoppering the last bottle with a cork. "An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, Bubotuber pus. Should stop students resorting to desperate measures to rid themselves of pimples."

"Like poor Eloise Midgen," said Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff, in a hushed voice. "She tried to curse hers off."

"Silly girl," said Professor Sprout, shaking her head. "But Madam Pomfrey fixed her nose back on in the end."

A booming bell echoed from the castle across the wet grounds, signalling the end of the lesson, and the class separated; the Hufflepuffs climbing the stone steps for Transfiguration, and the Gryffindors heading in the other direction, down the sloping lawn towards Hagrid's small wooden cabin, which stood on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Hagrid was standing outside his hut, one hand on the collar of his enormous black boarhound, Fang. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet, and Fang was whimpering and straining at his collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely. As we drew nearer, an odd rattling noise reached our ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions.

"Mornin'!" Hagrid said, grinning at Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I. "Be'er wait fer the Slytherins, they won' want ter miss this – Blast-Ended Skrewts!"

I shivered. Whatever they were, they didn't sound cute and cuddly.

"Come again?" said Ron.

Hagrid pointed down into the crates.

"Eurgh!" squealed Lavender Brown, jumping backwards.

"Eurgh" just about summed up the Blast-Ended Skrewts, in my opinion. They looked like deformed, shell-less lobsters, horribly pale and slimy-looking, with legs sticking out in very odd places and no visible heads. There were about a hundred of them in each crate, each about six inches long, crawling over each other, bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes. They were giving off a very powerful smell of rotting fish. Every now and then, sparks would fly out of the end of a Skrewt and, with a small phut, it would be propelled forwards several inches.

 

"On'y jus' hatched," said Hagrid proudly, "so yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yerselves! Thought we'd make a bit of a project of it!"

"And why would we want to raise them?" said a cold voice.

The Slytherins had arrived. The speaker was Draco. Crabbe and Goyle were chuckling appreciatively at his words.

Hagrid looked stumped at the question.

"I mean, what do they do?" asked Draco. "What is the point of them?"

Hagrid opened his mouth, apparently thinking hard; there was a few seconds' pause, then he said roughly, "Tha's next lesson, Malfoy. Yer jus' feedin' 'em today. Now, yeh'll wan' ter try 'em on a few diff'rent things – I've never had 'em before, not sure what they'll go fer – I got ant eggs an' frog livers an' a bit o' grass-snake – just try 'em out with a bit of each."

"First pus and now this," muttered Seamus.

Nothing but deep affection for Hagrid could have made Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I pick up squelchy handfuls of frog liver and lower them into the crates to tempt the Blast-Ended Skrewts. I couldn't suppress the suspicion that the whole thing was entirely pointless, because the Skrewts didn't seem to have mouths.

"Ouch!" yelled Dean Thomas, after about ten minutes. "It got me!"

Hagrid hurried over to him, looking anxious.

"Its end exploded!" said Dean angrily, showing Hagrid a burn on his hand.

"Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off," said Hagrid, nodding.

"Eurgh!" said Lavender Brown again. "Eurgh, Hagrid, what's that pointy thing on it?"

"Ah, some of 'em have got stings," said Hagrid enthusiastically (Lavender quickly withdrew her hand from the box). "I reckon they're the males...the females've got sorta sucker things on their bellies...I think they might be ter suck blood."

"Well, I can certainly see why we're trying to keep them alive," said Draco sarcastically. "Who wouldn't want pets that can burn, sting and bite all at once?"

"Just because they're not very pretty, it doesn't mean they're not useful," Hermione snapped. "Dragon blood's amazingly magical, but you wouldn't want a dragon for a pet, would you?"

"Hey!" I said to Hermione who rolled her eyes at me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Draco wink and grin at me and I couldn't help but grin back.

********************************************

"Well, at least the Skrewts are small," said Ron, as we made our way back up to the castle for lunch an hour later.

"They are now," said Hermione in an exasperated voice, "but once Hagrid's found out what they eat, I expect they'll be six feet long."

"Well, that won't matter if they turn out to cure sea sickness or something, will it?" said Ron, grinning slyly at her.

"You know perfectly well I only said that to shut Malfoy up," said Hermione. "As a matter of fact I think he's right. The best thing to do would be to stamp on the lot of them before they start attacking us all."

We sat down at the Gryffindor table and helped ourselves to lamb chops and potatoes. Hermione began to eat so fast that we all stared at her.

"Er – is this the new stand on elf rights?" said Ron. "You're going to make yourself puke instead?"

"No," said Hermione, with as much dignity as she could muster with her mouth bulging with sprouts. "I just want to get to the library."

"What?" said Ron in disbelief. "Hermione – it's the first day back! We haven't even got homework yet!" I had to agree with Ron on that one. As much as I liked to do my work on time, even I wasn't that eager to get started!

Hermione shrugged and continued to shovel down her food as though she had not eaten for days. Then she leapt to her feet, said, "See you at dinner!" and departed at high speed.

When the bell rang to signal the start of afternoon lessons, I joined Hermione outside of the Library and the two of us headed off for Arithmancy class.

Harry's POV

"Good day," said the misty voice of Professor Trelawney right behind me, making me jump. Her big eyes stared at me and her head tilted to the left.

"You are preoccupied, my dear," she said mournfully to me. "My Inner Eye sees past your brave face to the troubled soul within. And I regret to say that your worries are not baseless. I see difficult times ahead for you, alas...most difficult...I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass...and perhaps sooner than you think...the girl will have no choice but to help him whether she wants to or not."

Her voice dropped almost to a whisper. Ron rolled his eyes at me, but as I looked stonily back at Professor Trelawney, I couldn't help but feel a sense of dread at her ominous warning. She had been right last year about Peter, after all. Though I didn't know what she meant about a girl helping...

********************************************

Katrina's POV

"Lots of homework?" I asked Harry and Ron brightly as Hermione and I caught up with them. "Professor Vector didn't give us any at all!"

"Well, bully for Professor Vector," said Ron moodily.

We reached the Entrance Hall, which was packed with people queuing for dinner. We had just joined the end of the line, when a loud voice rang out behind us.

"Weasley! Hey, Weasley!"

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I turned. Draco, Crabbe and Goyle were standing there, each looking thoroughly pleased about something.

"What?" said Ron shortly.

"Your dad's in the paper, Weasley!" said Draco, brandishing a copy of the Daily Prophet, and speaking very loudly, so that everyone in the packed Entrance Hall could hear. "Listen to this!"

FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

I groaned as Draco read off the newspaper article. It was horrible! That vile Rita Skeeter woman was incapable of writing anything but nasty words! I looked at Draco angrily. I knew this wasn't going to end well.

"Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley, it's almost as though he's a complete nonentity, isn't it?" he crowed.

Everyone in the Entrance Hall was listening now. Draco straightened the paper with a flourish, and read on.

"And there's a picture, Weasley!" said Draco, flipping the paper over and holding it up. "A picture of your parents outside their house – if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?"

Ron was shaking with fury. Everyone was staring at him.

"Get stuffed, Malfoy," said Harry. "C'mon, Ron..."

"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Potter," sneered Draco. "So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?" Hermione grabbed the back of my robes as I made to lunge at Draco.

"You know your mother, Draco?" said Harry – "That expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?"

Draco pale face went slightly pink. "Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter."

"Keep your fat mouth shut, then -"

"Leave my friends alone, Draco. You're just a slimy ferret! I can't believe we were ever friends! -" Harry and I spoke at the same time and turned our back towards Draco, planning to leave him in our dust.

BANG!

Several people screamed – I felt something white hot graze the side of my face – I plunged my hand into my robes for my wand, but before I'd even touched it, I heard a second loud BANG, and a roar which echoed through the Entrance Hall.

"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"

Harry and I spun around. Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Draco had been standing.

There was a terrified silence in the Entrance Hall. Nobody but Moody was moving a muscle. Moody turned to look at Harry and I – at least, his normal eye was looking at us; the other one was pointing into the back of his head.

"Did he get either of you?" Moody growled. His voice was low and gravelly.

"No," said Harry, "missed."

"LEAVE IT!" Moody shouted.

"Leave – what?" I said, bewildered.

"Not you – him!" Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret. It seemed that Moody's rolling eye was magical and could see out of the back of his head.

 

Moody started to limp towards Crabbe, Goyle and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking towards the dungeons.

"I don't think so!" roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret again – it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upwards once more.

"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned," growled Moody, as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do..."

The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly.

"Never – do – that – again –" said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upwards again.

"Professor Moody!" said a shocked voice.

Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.

"What – what are you doing?" said Professor McGonagall, her eyes following the bouncing ferret's progress through the air.

"Teaching," said Moody with a wink in my direction.

"Teach– Moody, is that a student" shrieked Minnie, the books spilling out of her arms.

"Yep," said Moody.

"No!" cried Professor McGonagall, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Draco Malfoy had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing.

"Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!" said Professor McGonagall weakly. "Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?"

"He might've mentioned it, yeah," said Moody, scratching his chin unconcernedly, "but I thought a good sharp shock –"

"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of house!"

"I'll do that, then," said Moody, staring at Draco with great dislike.

Draco, whose pale eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently up at Moody and muttered something in which the words 'my father' were distinguishable.

"Oh yeah?" said Moody quietly, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. "Well, I know your father of old, boy...you tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son...you tell him that from me...now, your Head of house'll be Snape, will it?"

"Yes," said Draco resentfully.

"Another old friend," growled Moody. "I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape...come on, you..." And he seized Malfoy's upper arm and marched him off towards the dungeons.

Minnie stared anxiously after them for a few moments, then waved her wand at her fallen books, causing them to soar up into the air and back into her arms.

"Don't talk to me," Ron said quietly to Harry, Hermione, and I as we walked into the Great Hall.

"Why not?" asked Hermione.

"Because I want to fix that in my memory for ever," said Ron, his eyes closed and an uplifted expression on his face. "Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret..." we all laughed.

"Kat! Hey, Kat!" I heard someone shout. I turned around to see Cedric and his friends walking towards me.

"Hey!" I responded.

"Would you like to join us for dinner?"

I glanced at my friends. I didn't want to just ditch them but Hermione glanced between Cedric and I and wiggled her brows. I rolled my eyes at her but took that as permission.

"I'd like that, Cedric," I said with a smile.

"Great! Oh, and I love the new hair! It totally brings out the color of your gorgeous eyes," Cedric said.

"Really?" I giggled and reached my hand up to pat my electric blue hair as my cheeks turned red. Harry groaned under his breath and stomped off to the Gryffindor table with Ron and Hermione in tow. I shrugged my shoulders as I followed Cedric and his friends to the Hufflepuff table.

"Moody!" one of Cedric's friends was saying as we sat down. "How cool is he?"

"Beyond cool," said Cedric, sitting down next to me. I blushed again as I felt the length of our legs brush up against one another.

"Supercool," said another one of Cedric's friends, sliding into the seat on his other side. "We had him this afternoon," Cedric explained to me.

"What was it like?" I asked eagerly.

Cedric and his friends exchanged looks full of meaning.

"Never had a lesson like it," said Cedric.

"He knows, man," said another Hufflepuff.

"Knows what?" I said, leaning forwards.

"Knows what it's like to be out there doing it," the Hufflepuff said impressively.

"Doing what?"

"Fighting the Dark Arts," said Cedric.

"He's seen it all," his friend continued.

"He's amazing!" Cedric nodded.

"I haven't got him 'til Thursday!" I said in a disappointed voice.

"Don't worry, it'll be worth the wait!" the friend sitting on Cedric's other side said. "By the way, my name is Chris. Nice to finally meet you! Cedric's told me all about you!"

"Really?" I looked down at my lap to cover my embarrassment. "All good things, I hope!"

"Of course!" Cedric grinned. "There's nothing bad to say about you, Kat! You're the best!"

I went to bed that night with a smile on my face.

********************************************

AN - Hope you guys enjoyed this next chapter! I know, it's short but hope you liked it. Feel free to share your thoughts! I did my best to add a bit of Draco, Harry, and Cedric moments as requested and will continue to add them where I can :) also if anyone has any requests for new hair colors or animal forms that Kat should play around with drop a comment and I'll do my best to incorporate as many as I can into the rest of the series!


	72. The Unforgiveable Curses

Katrina's POV

The next two days passed without great incident, unless you counted Neville melting his sixth cauldron in Potions. Sev seemed to have attained new levels of vindictiveness over the summer and I glared at him when he gave Neville detention, and Neville returned from it in a state of nervous collapse, having been made to disembowel a barrel full of horned toads. I loved my godfather but sometimes even I thought he crossed a line with his treatment of Neville and Harry!

"You know why Snape's in such a foul mood, don't you?" I heard Ron say to Harry as Hermione and I taught Neville a Scouring Charm to remove the frog guts from under his fingernails.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Moody."

I shook my head. It was common knowledge that my godfather really wanted the Dark Arts job, and he had now failed to get it for the fourth year running. Snape had disliked all of our previous Dark Arts teachers, and shown it - but he seemed strangely wary of displaying overt animosity to Mad-Eye Moody. Indeed, whenever we saw the two of them together - at mealtimes, or when they passed in the corridors - I got the distinct impression that Sev was avoiding Moody's eye, whether magical or normal.

When I tried to ask him about it after class though, he just gave me a funny look and stormed out of the dungeon with his cape a flutter.

"I reckon Snape's a bit scared of him, you know," Harry said thoughtfully.

"Imagine if Moody turned Snape into a horned toad," said Ron, his eyes misting over, "and bounced him all around his dungeon..."

"Ron!" I said quickly as I thumped his chest. As funny as the image was, he was still my godfather!

We were all looking forward to Moody's first lesson so much that we arrived early on Thursday lunchtime and queued up outside his classroom before the bell had even rung. The only person missing was Hermione, who turned up just in time for the lesson.

"Been in the -"

"Library." Harry and I finished her sentence for her. "C'mon, quick, or we won't get decent seats."

We hurried into four chairs right in front of the teacher's desk, took out our copies of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, and waited, unusually quiet. Soon we heard Moody's distinctive clunking footsteps coming down the corridor, and he entered the room, looking as strange and frightening as ever. We could just see his clawed, wooden foot protruding from underneath his robes. I shivered as I contemplated what it would be like to lose a limb. How horrid!

"You can put those away," he growled, stumping over to his desk and sitting down, "those books. You won't need them."

We returned the books to our bags, Ron looking excited.

Moody took out a register, shook his long mane of grizzled gray hair out of his twisted and scarred face, and began to call out names, his normal eye moving steadily down the list while his magical eye swiveled around, fixing upon each student as he or she answered.

When he reached the end of the list he paused before calling out my own name. I don't think anyone else noticed, but I didn't like the way his magical eye kept glancing at me.

"Right then," he said after I had declared myself present, "I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures - you've covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?"

There was a general murmur of assent.

"But you're behind - very behind - on dealing with curses," said Moody. "So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark -"

"What, aren't you staying?" Ron blurted out. I clasped my hand to my mouth to mask my laughter. I glanced over at Hermione and we shared smirks.

Moody's magical eye spun around to stare at Ron; Ron looked extremely apprehensive, but after a moment Moody smiled - the first time I had seen him do so. The effect was to make his heavily scarred face look more twisted and contorted than ever, but it was nevertheless good to know that he knew how to smile. Ron looked deeply relieved.

"You'll be Arthur Weasley's son, eh?" Moody said. "Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago...Yeah, I'm staying just the one year. Special favor to Dumbledor...One year, and then back to my quiet retirement."

He gave a harsh laugh, and then clapped his gnarled hands together.

"So - straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to put that away, Miss Brown, when I'm talking."

Lavender jumped and blushed. She had been showing Parvati her completed horoscope under the desk. Apparently Moody's magical eye could see through solid wood, as well as out of the back of his head.

I shook my head again, baffled at the two girls who had nothing better to do then good off in class. What Moody was saying was important! They were morons for not realizing that.

"So...do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"

Several hands rose tentatively into the air, including Ron's and Hermione's. Moody pointed at Ron, though his magical eye was still fixed on Lavender.

"Er," said Ron tentatively, "my dad told me about one...Is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?"

"Ah, yes," said Moody appreciatively. "Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse."

Moody got heavily to his mismatched feet, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. Three large black spiders were scuttling around inside it. I saw Ron recoil slightly in his seat on the other side of Harry - Ron hated spiders. I had to admit, even I wasn't that big of a fan. But I also didn't scream and run out of the room whenever I saw one!

Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it in the palm of his hand so that they could all see it. He then pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Imperio!"

The spider leapt from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing backward and forward as though on a trapeze. It stretched out its legs rigidly, then did a back flip, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it began to cartwheel in circles. Moody jerked his wand, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance.

Everyone was laughing - everyone except Moody and I. I knew there must be a reason why this curse was unforgivable and I had a bad feeling something was about to happen that wouldn't be very funny.

"Think it's funny, do you?" he growled. "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?"

The laughter died away almost instantly.

"Total control," said Moody quietly as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. "I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats..."

Ron gave an involuntary shudder.

"Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse," said Moody, and I knew he was talking about the days in which Voldemort had been all-powerful. "Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will.

"The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he barked, and everyone jumped.

Moody picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar.

"Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"

Hermione's hand flew into the air again and so, to my slight surprise, did Neville's. The only class in which Neville usually volunteered information was Herbology which was easily his best subject. Neville looked surprised at his own daring.

"Yes?" said Moody, his magical eye rolling right over to fix on Neville.

"There's one - the Cruciatus Curse," said Neville in a small but distinct voice. I froze. Neville had told me about what happened to his parents our first year at Hogwarts but he'd never mentioned how it had happened.

Moody was looking very intently at Neville, this time with both eyes.

"Your name's Longbottom?" he said, his magical eye swooping down to check the register again.

Neville nodded nervously, but Moody made no further inquiries. Turning back to the class at large, he reached into the jar for the next spider and placed it upon the desktop, where it remained motionless, apparently too scared to move.

"The Cruciatus Curse," said Moody. "Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea," he said, pointing his wand at the spider. "Engorgio!"

The spider swelled. It was now larger than a tarantula. Abandoning all pretense, Ron pushed his chair backward, as far away from Moody's desk as possible.

Moody raised his wand again, pointed it at the spider, and muttered, "Crucio!"

At once, the spider's legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound came from it, but I was sure that if it could have given voice, it would have been screaming. Moody did not remove his wand, and the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently -

"Stop it!" I shouted. I couldn't bare to watch, and I could tell Neville couldn't either. His hands were clenched upon the desk in front of him, his knuckles white, his eyes wide and horrified.

Moody raised his wand. The spider's legs relaxed, but it continued to twitch.

"Reducio," Moody muttered, and the spider shrank back to its proper size. He put it back into the jar.

"Pain," said Moody softly. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse...That one was very popular once too.

"Right...anyone know any others?"

I looked around. From the looks on everyone's faces, I guessed they were all wondering what was going to happen to the last spider. Hermione's hand shook slightly as, for the third time, she raised it into the air.

"Yes?" said Moody, looking at her.

"Avada Kedavra," Hermione whispered.

Several people looked uneasily around at her, including Ron.

"Ah," said Moody, another slight smile twisting his lopsided mouth. "Yes, the last and worst. Avada Kedavra...the Killing Curse."

He put his hand into the glass jar, and almost as though it knew what was coming, the third spider scuttled frantically around the bottom of the jar, trying to evade Moody's fingers, but he trapped it, and placed it upon the desktop. It started to scuttle frantically across the wooden surface.

Moody raised his wand, and I felt a sudden thrill of foreboding.

"Avada Kedavra!" Moody roared.

There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound, as though a vast, invisible something was soaring through the air - instantaneously the spider rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. Several of the students stifled cries; Ron had thrown himself backward and almost toppled off his seat as the spider skidded toward him.

Moody swept the dead spider off the desk onto the floor.

"Not nice," he said calmly. "Not pleasant. And there's no countercurse. There's no blocking it. Only two people have ever survived it, and they're both sitting sitting right in front of me."

I felt my face redden as Moody's eyes (both of them) looked into my own. I could feel everyone else looking around at me and wondering why Moody had referred to both Harry and I. I stared at the blank blackboard as though fascinated by it, but not really seeing it at all....

So that was how my mom had died...exactly like that spider. Had she been unblemished and unmarked too? Had she simply seen the flash of green light and heard the rush of speeding death, before life was wiped from her bodies?

I had been picturing her and Harry's parent's deaths over and over again for three years now, ever since I'd found out they had been murdered, ever since I'd found out what had happened that night: Wormtail had betrayed our parents' whereabouts to Voldemort, who had come to find them at their cottage. How Voldemort had killed Harry's father first, then Lilly, and finally my own mum. But no one but Harry, Ron, Hermione, my grandfather, and godfathers knew about that! And now Moody had just blurted it out for the whole class to hear!

Even worse, he was now coming over to my desk. I held my breath as he used his wand to shift my robes and push my shirt away to reveal the scar on my collar bone. I heard a few gasps as whispers broke out and my face burned redder then ever. There goes that secret!

Moody was speaking again, and though the class quieted down once more, I knew I was going to hear about my scar later...I silently cursed Moody in my head for revealing my scar to everyone but refocused on his words nevertheless.

"Avada Kedavra's a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it - you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it.

"Now, if there's no countercurse, why am I showing you? Because you've got to know. You've got to appreciate what the worst is. You don't want to find yourself in a situation where you're facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he roared, and the whole class jumped again.

"Now...those three curses - Avada Kedavra, Imperius, and Cruciatus - are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. That's what you're up against. That's what I've got to teach you to fight. You need preparing. You need arming. But most of all, you need to practice constant, never-ceasing vigilance. Get out your quills...copy this down..."

They spent the rest of the lesson taking notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses. No one spoke until the bell rang - I was about to leave when Moody called out my name and asked me to stay behind. I glanced at Harry and motioned for him to join Ron and Hermione as they stood outside and waited for me.

"Yes, Professor? Was there something you needed?" I asked politely. The man gave me the creeps but he was still a Professor and I was not about to start being disrespectful.

"No, no. I just wanted to tell you that if there's anything that you ever need, don't hesitate to ask. I knew your father back in the day. He was, well...still is a great man."

"Really? You knew my father?" I blinked in surprise. Not many people knew Sirius was my dad! But if they had known each other, than he couldn't be all that bad!

"Yes, yes I did, I was deeply saddened when everyone turned on him. It was despicable! Those gutless worms!" I stepped back in shock at the venomous tone.

"Um, yes...I - I agree, it was horrible for everyone to turn their backs on him. If - if there's nothing else, Professor, I'll be on my way, don't want to be late!" I rushed out of the classroom as fast as I could. I was still angry at him for revealing my secret and even if he DID know my father, he still scared me.

I joined up with Ron, Harry, and Hermione and me made our way down the hall. As we did so, I couldn't help but notice how students kept whispering and pointing at me behind my back; and I knew it wasn't because of my choice of hair colors today - I'd decided to go with a deep purple that was almost black except for the tips, which where a lighter shade of violet.

Mad-Eye Moody's POV

As my next class filed into the room, I found both of my eyes attracted to one particular student. While her hair was purple at the moment, there was no mistaking whose kid she was. She looked so much like him!

I called her back after class to see if I could get her on her own. For the plan to work, she would need to survive till the end of the year, but I wanted to talk to her. I had specific orders to do my best to steer her in the right direction.

I laughed maniacally as she left my room. It had given me pleasure to curse those pathetic guttersnipes who had turned their back on my master. If I ever got another chance to make them run, I would gladly take it. How dare they leave him when he needed them most! While he was forced to hang onto life, they were enjoying a cushy lifestyle...how dare they!

When my master was brought back to full strength it would be me, not them, who was rewarded beyond comparison. And the girl...I could sense her power the minute she walked into the classroom. Her power was everything yummy master had said it was...she was going to be just what we needed to finally win. I grinned as I left the room to go get some minor details of the plan worked out.

Katrina's POV

"Hurry up," Hermione said tensely to Harry and Ron.

"Not the ruddy library again?" said Ron.

"No," said Hermione curtly, pointing up a side passage. "Neville."

Neville was standing alone, halfway up the passage, staring at the stone wall opposite him with the same horrified, wide-eyed look he had worn when Moody had demonstrated the Cruciatus Curse.

"Neville?" I said gently, walking over to him and putting my hand on his shoulder.

Neville looked around.

"Oh hello," he said, his voice much higher than usual. "Interesting lesson, wasn't it? I wonder what's for dinner, I'm - I'm starving, aren't you?"

"Neville, are you all right?" said Hermione.

"Oh yes, I'm fine," Neville gabbled in the same unnaturally high voice. "Very interesting dinner - I mean lesson - what's for eating?"

Ron gave Harry a startled look.

"Neville, what -?"

But an odd clunking noise sounded behind us, and we turned to see Professor Moody limping toward us. All five of us fell silent, watching him apprehensively, but when he spoke, it was in a much lower and gentler growl than we had yet heard.

"It's all right, sonny," he said to Neville. "Why don't you come up to my office? Come on...we can have a cup of tea..."

Neville looked even more frightened at the prospect of tea with Moody. He neither moved nor spoke. Moody turned his magical eye upon Harry and I."

"You all right, are you, Potter? Katrina?"

"Yes," we said, almost defiantly. I'd already spoken to him once and I wasn't looking forward to having to do so again. Poor Neville, he had to go and drink tea with him!

Moody's blue eye quivered slightly in its socket as it surveyed Harry and I. Then he said, "You've got to know. It seems harsh, maybe, but you've got to know. No point pretending...well...come on, Longbottom, I've got some books that might interest you."

Neville looked pleadingly at Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I, but we didn't say anything, so Neville had no choice but to allow himself to be steered away, one of Moody's gnarled hands on his shoulder.

"What was that about?" said Ron, watching Neville and Moody turn the corner.

"I don't know," said Hermione, looking pensive. I had a good idea, but I'd promised Neville I wouldn't tell anyone until he was ready.

"Some lesson, though, eh?" said Ron to Harry as we set off for the Great Hall. "Fred and George were right, weren't they? He really knows his stuff, Moody, doesn't he? When he did Avada Kedavra, the way that spider just died, just snuffed it right -"

But Ron fell suddenly silent at the look on Harry's and my face and didn't speak again until we reached the Great Hall, when he said he supposed they had better make a start on Professor Trelawney's predictions tonight, since they would take hours.

Hermione did not join in with Harry and Ron's conversation during dinner, but ate furiously fast, and then left for the library again. I didn't join in either as I was busy hiding my face from everyone.

"Harry! How do you stand it! I burst out angrily as yet another group of giggling first years freaked out when I caught them glancing my way.

I hated this! This was exactly why I didn't want anyone finding out I'm the first place! Why did Moody have to go and blurt out the truth! Arghhhhh! I stood up angrily and made to storm out but Harry grabbed my arm and pulled me back to the table. After a quick back and forth argument, he finally managed to convince me to join him and Ron in the Gryffindor Common room while they did their homework.

"I haven't got a clue what this lot's supposed to mean," Harry said an hour later as we sat before the fireplace. I was working on an Arithmancy essay and the boys were working on their star charts.

"You know," said Ron, whose hair was on end because of all the times he had run his fingers through it in frustration, "I think it's back to the old Divination standby."

"What - make it up?"

"Yeah," said Ron, sweeping the jumble of scrawled notes off the table, dipping his pen into some ink, and starting to write. I opened my mouth to lecture them - and then remembered it was for Professor Trelawney and that I didn't care.

"Next Monday," he said as he scribbled, "I am likely to develop a cough, owing to the unlucky conjunction of Mars and Jupiter." He looked up at Harry. "You know her - just put in loads of misery, she'll lap it up."

"Right," said Harry, crumpling up his first attempt and lobbing it over the heads of a group of chattering first years into the fire. "Okay...on Monday, I will be in danger of - er - burns."

"Yeah, you will be," said Ron darkly, "we're seeing the skrewts again on Monday. Okay, Tuesday, I'll...erm..."

"Lose a treasured possession?" I suggested helpfully.

"Good one," said Ron, copying it down. "Because of...erm...Mercury. Why don't you get stabbed in the back by someone you thought was a friend?"

"Yeah...cool..." said Harry, scribbling it down, "because...Venus is in the twelfth house."

"And on Wednesday, I think I'll come off worst in a fight."

"Aaah, I was going to have a fight. Okay, I'll lose a bet."

"Yeah, you'll be betting I'll win my fight...."

Harry and Ron continued to make up predictions (which grew steadily more tragic) for another hour, while the common room around us slowly emptied as people went up to bed. After I finished my own essay I joined in and helped them come up with predictions. I had to admit it was fun and it was a welcome distraction.

Crookshanks wandered over to them, leapt lightly into an empty chair, and stared inscrutably at Harry, rather as Hermione might look if she knew they weren't doing their homework properly.

Staring around the room, trying to think of a kind of misfortune we hadn't yet used, I saw Fred and George sitting together against the opposite wall, heads together, quills out, poring over a single piece of parchment.

As I watched, George shook his head at Fred, scratched out something with his quill, and said, in a very quiet voice that nevertheless carried across the almost deserted room, "No - that sounds like we're accusing him. Got to be careful..."

Then George looked over and saw that I was watching him. I grinned and quickly turned back in my seat - I didn't want George to think I was eavesdropping. Shortly after that, the twins rolled up their parchment, said good night, and went off to bed.

Fred and George had been gone ten minutes or so when the portrait hole opened and Hermione climbed into the common room carrying a sheaf of parchment in one hand and a box whose contents rattled as she walked in the other. Crookshanks arched his back, purring.

"Hello," she said, "I've just finished!"

"So have I!" said Ron triumphantly, throwing down his quill.

Hermione sat down, laid the things she was carrying in an empty armchair, and pulled Ron's predictions toward her.

"Not going to have a very good month, are you?" she said sardonically as Crookshanks curled up in her lap. I grinned at Harry as we shared a high-five.

"Ah well, at least I'm forewarned," Ron yawned.

"You seem to be drowning twice," said Hermione.

"Oh am I?" said Ron, peering down at his predictions. "I'd better change one of them to getting trampled by a rampaging hippogriff."

"Don't you think it's a bit obvious you've made these up?" said Hermione.

"How dare you!" said Ron, in mock outrage. "We've been working like house-elves here!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"It's just an expression," said Ron hastily.

Harry laid down his quill too, having just finished predicting his own death by decapitation - that one was my suggestion!

"What's in the box?" he asked, pointing at it.

"Funny you should ask," said Hermione, with a nasty look at Ron. She took off the lid and showed us the contents.

Inside were about fifty badges, all of different colors, but all bearing the same letters: S. P. E .W.

"Spew?" said Harry, picking up a badge and looking at it. "What's this about?"

"Not spew," said Hermione impatiently. "It's S-P-E-W. Stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."

"Never heard of it," said Ron.

"Well, of course you haven't," said Hermione briskly, "I've only just started it."

"Yeah?" said Ron in mild surprise. "How many members have you got?"

"Well - if you three join - four," said Hermione.

"And you think we want to walk around wearing badges saying 'spew,' do you?" said Ron.

"S-P-E-W!" said Hermione hotly. "I was going to put Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status - but it wouldn't fit. So that's the heading of our manifesto."

She brandished the sheaf of parchment at them.

"I've been researching it thoroughly in the library. Elf enslavement goes back centuries. I can't believe no one's done anything about it before now."

"Hermione - open your ears," said Ron loudly. "They. Like. It. They like being enslaved!"

"Our short-term aims," said Hermione, speaking even more loudly than Ron, and acting as though she hadn't heard a word, "are to secure house-elves fair wages and working conditions. Our long-term aims include changing the law about non-wand use, and trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, because they're shockingly underrepresented."

"And how do we do all this?" Harry asked.

"We start by recruiting members," said Hermione happily. "I thought two Sickles to join - that buys a badge - and the proceeds can fund our leaflet campaign. You're treasurer, Ron - I've got you a collecting tin upstairs - and Harry, you're secretary, so you might want to write down everything I'm saying now, as a record of our first meeting."

There was a pause in which Hermione beamed at the three of us, and I sat, torn between exasperation at Hermione and amusement at the look on Ron's face. The silence was broken, not by Ron, who in any case looked as though he was temporarily dumbstruck, but by a soft tap, tap on the window. I looked across the now empty common room and saw, illuminated by the moonlight, a snowy owl and a pitch black one perched on the windowsill.

"Hedwig! Salazar! Harry and I shouted. We launched ourselves out of our chairs and across the room to pull open the window.

Hedwig and Salazar flew inside, soared across the room, and landed on the table on top of Harry's predictions.

"About time!" said Harry, hurrying after her. I ran over to Salazar and took the note from his leg and he immediately began to preen his feathers.

"They've got an answer!" said Ron excitedly, pointing at the two grubby pieces of parchment.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

The letters were very short, and looked as though it had been scrawled in a great hurry. They were roughly the same. Harry read his first and then I went:

Angelous Paulo,

I'm flying north immediately. This news about your scars is the latest in a series of strange rumors that have reached me here. If it hurts again, go straight to Dumbledore - they're saying he's got Mad-Eye out of retirement, which means he's reading the signs, even if no one else is.  
I'll be in touch soon. My best to Ron and Hermione. Keep your eyes open. Te amo in infinitum,

Sirius  
P.S. Yes, Dumbledore explained what happened to her at the end of last year before you helped me escape. The both of us are doing as well as can be expected. Your mother loved you bet much and could never have hated you! And the same goes for me! Stay safe!

I blinked furiously as my eyes began to water. I was torn between so many different emotions right now.

"He's flying north?" Hermione whispered. "He's coming back?"

"Dumbledore's reading what signs?" said Ron, looking perplexed. "Harry - Kat - what's up?"

For Harry had just hit himself in the forehead with his fist and I'd stood up and began pacing back and forth.

"We shouldn't've told him!" I said furiously.

"What are you on about?" said Ron in surprise.

"It's made him think he's got to come back!" said Harry, slamming his fist on the table so that Hedwig landed on the back of Ron's chair, hooting indignantly. "Coming back, because he thinks we're in trouble! And there's nothing wrong with me! And I haven't got anything for you," Harry snapped at Hedwig, who was clicking her beak expectantly, "you'll have to go up to the Owlery if you want food."

Hedwig gave him an extremely offended look and took off for the open window, cuffing him around the head with her outstretched wing as she went. I shook my head and went over to Salazar and told him to go follow and make sure Hedwig was alright.

"Harry, Katrina," Hermione began, in a pacifying sort of voice.

"I'm going to bed," I said shortly. "See you in the morning."

I walked out of the portrait hole and back to my room. Once there, I pulled on my pajamas and got into my four-poster, but I didn't feel remotely tired.

If Sirius came back and got caught, it would be my fault. Why hadn't I kept my mouth shut? A few seconds' pain and I'd had to blab...If I'd just had the sense to keep it to myself...

********************************************

In-line Comments

\- omg hehe I love how she thinks he's talking about Sirius and he thinks she's talking about Voldemort haha miscommunication is gonna be as present in this book as I can make it😬😇  
\- ohhh hope you guys liked Mad-Eyes/Crouch's POV! Had a few requests to do it so I tried lol let me know what you thought and if you want me to continue to try and write his perspective or to give it up while I'm behind😅🙈  
\- tried my best with Sirius's letter to add some sentimental stuff but at the same time as you know he's supposed to be in a hurry and writing the bare minimum so wasn't sure how to go about it - hoped it turned out alright.


	73. Beauxbatons & Durmstrang

Katrina's POV

Early next morning, I woke with a plan fully formed in my mind, as though my sleeping brain had been working on it all night. I got up, dressed in the pale dawn light, and fiddled with my hair in the mirror; contemplating what color I was in the mood for today, before heading to my outer-chambers with a piece of parchment and bottle of ink. I curled up in one of the chairs in front of my fireplace and wrote the following letter:

Dear Ada,  
I reckon I just imagined my scar hurting, I was half asleep when I wrote to you last time. There's no point coming back, everything's fine here. Don't worry about me, my head feels completely normal.

Katrina Black (I hope it's okay that I am calling myself that now...I know it's still probably not a good idea to tell people about us but I doubt anyone will make the connection - and I'm really tired of having no last name! Besides, Creepy Eye spilled the beans to the entire class yesterday about V-man trying to kill me along with Beary and showed everyone my scar...so I think everyone will be more focused on THAT then me adding a last name. And if they ask, I'll just say I chose it because it's the color that will hide their blood when I punch them for not minding their own business!)

I sighed as I reread my note. I had meant to make it quick and to the point but there was so much I wanted to tell him after so many years apart and anyone who knows me knows that I ramble - a LOT! I made sure not to mention any names other than mine so what harm could a little nonsense rambling do? I hated knowing my father was out there all on his own with no one to talk to but Buckbeak/mom's lingering spirit. If nothing else, I hoped my lame nicknames would give him something to laugh about. Anyways, I had a feeling Harry was going to write to him as well and him being a boy and all, probably wouldn't make it very long, and if I couldn't be with my father in person, I wanted to put as much of me as I could in the letter; without putting him or anyone else in danger!

I exited my room and walked through the silent castle (stopping only briefly to suggest to Peeves that he overturn a large vase on whoever next passed along the fourth-floor corridor), and finally arrived at the Owlery, which was situated at the top of West Tower.

The Owlery was a circular stone room, rather cold and drafty, because none of the windows had glass in them. The floor was entirely covered in straw, owl droppings, and the regurgitated skeletons of mice and voles. Hundreds upon hundreds of owls of every breed imaginable were nestled here on perches that rose right up to the top of the tower, nearly all of them asleep, though here and there a round amber eye blinked down at me. I spotted Salazar and Hedwig nestled between a barn owl and a tawny, and hurried over to them, sliding a little on the dropping-strewn floor.

Since Hedwig was clearly still upset about last night, I decided to spend some time stroking her feathers and letting her spend some more time with Salazar before I sent him off. The two of them were really close and spent most of their downtime together. I kept telling Salazar to hurry up and make a move but he was as clueless as Harry!

Who speaking of which, had just scared me to death upon his arrival in the Owlery. I had been so caught up in my thoughts I must have missed the sound of his footsteps.

I laughed as I watched him step up to Hedwig only for her to fly away.

"Really, Harry? What'd you expect after the way you shouted at her last night! We females don't like being yelled at for something that isn't our fault, nor do we forgive being treated like that in the span of a few hours; especially without an apology of any kind. Definitely not the best approach," I giggled at the innocently confused and bewildered expression on Harry's face as I coaxed Hedwig back over to him.

"Well then what approach do you suppose I SHOULD take?" I breathed in sharply as Harry suddenly turned around and stepped in close to me. He had that weird look in his eyes again - the one that made my stomach flipflop and my feet tingle. I cleared my throat as I took a step back. He closed the distance once more until my back was up against the wall and I had nowhere else to run.

"So...?" Harry chuckled, tilting his head and waiting for my answer with a glint of humor, genuine curiosity, as well as something else I couldn't identify in his eyes.

I coughed and looked away not sure what to say. How was a gal supposed to think with him standing so close!

"Um...well, ya know...we like honesty! Yeah! That's important and...and...directness - just say what you mean! I mean why can't guys just ever just say what they're really thinking instead of beating around the bush and making everything so complicated! I mean seriously! It's so confusing...you never say what you feel so how are we supposed to know. You say one thing when you mean another and we're just automatically supposed to be there to help fix everything without any thanks! I'm starting to see Hermione's point about the house elves! It's a thankless job for the most part and they just go along with it no questions asked!" I opened my mouth to keep rambling but Harry covered it with his hand.

"Woah, slow down there, Princess!"

I rolled my eyes at the nickname and glared at the hand over my mouth and looked back at him to see his face shifting as he tried to cover his laughter.

I narrowed my eyes at him and waited for him to let his guard down before sticking my tongue out and running it along the length of his palm. I burst out laughing as his eyes became saucers as he instinctively removed his hand.

"Ahhh mannn! The look on your face - priceless!" I was bent over with laughter but managed to tilt my head up to watch him stand there motionlessly - still grasping what I'd just done. I kept laughing and laughing and don't know how long it would have been before I stopped if he hadn't stepped forward again and grabbed hold of my hand. I tried to yank it back but he held on.

"uh uh uh, Princess, it's my turn now - after all; it's only faire!" He grinned mischievously as he raised my hand to his mouth and ever so slowly dragged his tongue across my palm. My legs shook as I struggled to stand up straight and act unaffected and like my insides weren't twisting into a jumbled mess, but could tell he saw right through it. My hand felt like it was on fire by the time he finished and let it drop to my side and I opened and closed my mouth but no words came out.

After what seemed like ages, Harry broke the silence when it became clear that I wasn't going to say anything.

"Isn't directness kind of the same thing as honesty?"

I shook my head and tried to control the turmoil in my mind enough to focus on his question.

"I-I...yeah I guess so...why?"

"Well then that's just one thing that girls like...there's gotta be other stuff too!"

"Well why the hell do you care so much, huh? Tryna find a way to buddy up to that Chang girl?! Don't worry, I'm sure you'll do perfectly fine on your own without any help from me!"

This time it was my own hand that covered my mouth. I can't believe I just said that! Where the hell had that come from! Could I sound any more jealous? And what reason did I even have to be jealous! I didn't like anyone like that yet!...Except maybe Cedric...right? I mean there was no way Harry saw me as more than just a friend anyways! I mean who randomly licks the hand of someone they are crushing on! - Ok yeah maybe I just did that...but that's besides the point! He only did it back as a joke!

I shook my head again to stop my inner rambling and peered up at Harry; using my hair as a semi-mask.

"Well...I don't know about Cho specifically, but yeah, I wanna know more about girls? I mean you and Hermione are really the only two I know and interact with and I always seem to be messing that up!"

I laughed at my best friend's cluelessness while innerly thanking this trait of his as it meant he hadn't noticed my weird behavior.

"What! It's true! Every year something goes wrong!...Why are you laughing!"

I glanced at Harry and laughed some more.

"Oh, come on, Harry! This is you we're talking about! Something is always bound to happen! You're like a drama magnet! I don't think any advice I would have for a normal girl would apply to me and Hermione who have to deal with the fallout of whatever shenanigans you manage to get yourself into!" I smiled at him to let him know I was teasing him and to lessen the sting of my words - because all jokes aside, it was true.

"Hey! You attract just as much; if not more, drama than me, Princess!"

"What can I say, it's part of my charm!" I grinned and slid around him and made my way back towards Hedwig. "Now are we going to stand around all day or get these letters sent off!"

It took him a while to persuade her to look at him, as she kept shuffling around on her perch, showing him her tail. She was evidently still furious about his lack of gratitude the previous night. Harry glared at me as I laughed at him but I couldn't help it. Watching the two of them was hilarious. In the end, it was Harry suggesting she might be too tired, and that perhaps he would ask Ron to borrow Pigwidgeon, that made her stick out her leg and allow him to tie the letter to it.

"Just find him, all right?" Harry said, stroking her back as he carried her on his arm to one of the holes in the wall. "Before the dementors do."

She nipped his finger, perhaps rather harder than she would ordinarily have done, but hooted softly in a reassuring sort of way all the same. Then she spread her wings and took off into the sunrise.

"Now watch how a real pro does it!" I whistled and Salazar flew down to me and immediately stretched his leg out. I quickly attached my letter and off he went.

Harry mock applauded and bowed to me and I shoved him playfully towards the stairs, glad that the awkward moment had officially passed.

********************************************

"That was a lie," said Hermione sharply over breakfast, when Harry and I told her and Ron what we had done. "You didn't imagine your scars hurting and you know it."

"So what?" said Harry. "He's not going back to Azkaban because of me."

"Nor me!" I chimed in, doing my best to keep my head down to avoid all the staring I was receiving.

"Drop it," said Ron sharply to Hermione as she opened her mouth to argue some more, and for once, Hermione heeded him, and fell silent.

I did my best not to worry about my father over the next couple of weeks. True, I could not stop myself from looking anxiously around every morning when the post owls arrived, nor, late at night before I went to sleep, prevent myself from seeing horrible visions of Sirius, cornered by dementors down some dark London street, but betweentimes I tried to keep my mind off my father.

Considering the amount of pointing and staring that followed me everywhere I went now, this wasn't hard to do. What made it worse was Harry's enjoyment of it all!

"It's not funny Harry! They never leave me alone! I can't even go to the bathroom without someone commenting about it!"

"Welcome to my world, Princess!" was all he had to say.

I wished I still had Quidditch to distract me; nothing worked so well on a troubled mind as a good, hard training session. On the other hand, our lessons were becoming more difficult and demanding than ever before, particularly Moody's Defense Against the Dark Arts.

To our surprise, Professor Moody had announced that he would be putting the Imperius Curse on each of us in turn, to demonstrate its power and to see whether we could resist its effects.

"But - but you said it's illegal, Professor," said Hermione uncertainly as Moody cleared away the desks with a sweep of his wand, leaving a large clear space in the middle of the room. "You said - to use it against another human was -"

"Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like," said Moody, his magical eye swiveling onto Hermione and fixing her with an eerie, unblinking stare. "If you'd rather learn the hard way - when someone's putting it on you so they can control you completely - fine by me. You're excused. Off you go."

I glanced at Harry as he Moody said this, remembering back to second year when Voldemort had done exactly that. I couldn't help but tremble at the thought of going through that again. Harry pulled me in close and wrapped his arm around me protectively as Moody pointed one gnarled finger toward the door. Hermione went very pink and muttered something about not meaning that she wanted to leave. Harry, Ron, and I grinned at each other. We knew Hermione would rather eat bubotuber pus than miss such an important lesson.

Moody began to beckon students forward in turn and put the Imperius Curse upon them. I watched as, one by one, my classmates did the most extraordinary things under its influence. Dean Thomas hopped three times around the room, singing the national anthem. Lavender Brown imitated a squirrel. Neville performed a series of quite astonishing gymnastics he would certainly not have been capable of in his normal state. Not one of them seemed to be able to fight off the curse, and each of them recovered only when Moody had removed it.

"Katrina," Moody growled, "you next."

I shook my head uncomfortably. "Please, Professor, I already know what it feels like to be under the curse, you can just move onto the next person!" I pleaded, knowing it was a lost cause.

"Having the curse used on you is one thing, you NEED to learn to fight it! I will let you and Potter go together if it makes you feel better."

I groaned but gritted my teeth as Harry and I moved forward into the middle of the classroom, into the space that Moody had cleared of desks. Moody raised his wand, pointed it at Harry and I, and said, "Imperio!"

I felt a familiar floating sensation as every thought and worry in my head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. I stood there feeling immensely relaxed, only dimly aware of everyone watching Harry and I.

And then I heard Mad-Eye Moody's voice, echoing in some distant chamber of my empty brain: "Jump onto the desk...jump onto the desk..."

Out of the corner of my eye, I was vaguely aware of Harry bending his knees obediently, preparing to spring but I just stood there glaring at Moody. I didn't want to do anything that he wanted me to do right now.

"Jump onto the desk...."

"No..."

"Jump onto the desk...."

"No, I don't think I will, thanks, I don't really want to...."

"Jump! NOW!"

"NO!" I shouted out loud, refusing to move. There was a loud crashing sound and I blinked rapidly as I came back to my senses.

Harry had both jumped and tried to prevent himself from jumping - the result was that he'd smashed headlong into the desk knocking it over.

"Now, that's more like it!" growled Moody's voice. "Look at that, you lot...Potter and Katrina fought! They fought it, and damn near beat it! We'll try that again, Potter, Katrina, and the rest of you, pay attention - watch their eyes, that's where you see it - very good, very good indeed! They'll have trouble controlling you two!" I frowned. I HAD beaten it so why did he need to include me in his stupid demonstrations! I glared at Moody as he raised his wand again.

********************************************

"The way he talks," Harry muttered as he hobbled out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class an hour later (Moody had insisted on putting us through our paces four times in a row, until Harry could throw off the curse entirely like me), "you'd think we were all going to be attacked any second."

I nodded my head in agreement at Moody's crazyness. I was just pleased that not once had I felt the urge to follow any of his orders. I didn't know why, but there was not nearly as much force behind the commands as there had been with Tom Riddle's. Whatever the reason, I was just happy I hadn't been at Moody's mercy like with Tom. I never wanted to feel that again!

"Yeah, I know," said Ron, who was skipping on every alternate step. He had had much more difficulty with the curse than Harry, though Moody assured him the effects would wear off by lunchtime. "Talk about paranoid..." Ron glanced nervously over his shoulder to check that Moody was definitely out of earshot and went on. "No wonder they were glad to get shot of him at the Ministry. Did you hear him telling Seamus what he did to that witch who shouted 'Boo' behind him on April Fools' Day? And when are we supposed to read up on resisting the Imperius Curse with everything else we've got to do?"

All us fourth years had noticed a definite increase in the amount of work we were required to do this term. Professor McGonagall explained why, when the class gave a particularly loud groan at the amount of Transfiguration homework she had assigned.

"You are now entering a most important phase of your magical education!" she told us, her eyes glinting dangerously behind her square spectacles. "Your Ordinary Wizarding Levels are drawing closer -"

"We don't take O.W.L.s till fifth year!" said Dean Thomas indignantly.

"Maybe not, Thomas, but believe me, you need all the preparation you can get! Miss Granger and Katrina remain the only two students in this class who have managed to turn a hedgehog into a satisfactory pincushion. I might remind you that your pincushion, Thomas, still curls up in fright if anyone approaches it with a pin!"

Hermione, who had turned rather pink again, seemed to be trying not to look too pleased with herself. I on the other hand, burrowed my face into my hands in embarrassment. I really didn't need any more attention on me!

Meanwhile Professor Binns, the ghost who taught History of Magic, had us writing weekly essays on the goblin rebellions of the eighteenth century. Sev was forcing us to research antidotes. We all took this one seriously, as he had hinted that he might be poisoning one of us before Christmas to see if our antidote worked. Professor Flitwick had asked us to read three extra books in preparation for our lesson on Summoning Charms.

Even Hagrid was adding to our workload. The Blast-Ended Skrewts were growing at a remarkable pace given that nobody had yet discovered what they ate. Hagrid was delighted, and as part of our "project," suggested that we come down to his hut on alternate evenings to observe the skrewts and make notes on their extraordinary behavior.

"I will not," said Draco flatly when Hagrid had proposed this with the air of Father Christmas pulling an extra-large toy out of his sack. "I see enough of these foul things during lessons, thanks."

Hagrid's smile faded off his face.

"Yeh'll do wha' yer told," he growled, "or I'll be takin' a leaf outta Professor Moody's book....I hear yeh made a good ferret, Malfoy."

The Gryffindors roared with laughter, myself included. Draco flushed with anger, but apparently the memory of Moody's punishment was still sufficiently painful to stop him from retorting. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I returned to the castle at the end of the lesson in high spirits; seeing Hagrid put down Draco was particularly satisfying, especially because Draco had done his very best to get Hagrid sacked the previous year.

When we arrived in the entrance hall, we found ourselves unable to proceed owing to the large crowd of students congregated there, all milling around a large sign that had been erected at the foot of the marble staircase. Ron, the tallest of us four, stood on tiptoe to see over the heads in front of us and read the sign aloud to us:

TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT  
THE DELEGATIONS FROM BEAUXBATONS AND DURMSTRANG WILL BE ARRIVING AT 6 O'CLOCK ON FRIDAY THE 30TH OF OCTOBER. LESSONS WILL END HALF AN HOUR EARLY-  
"Brilliant!" said Harry. "It's Potions last thing on Friday! Snape won't have time to poison us all!"

STUDENTS WILL RETURN THEIR BAGS AND BOOKS TO THEIR DORMITORIES AND ASSEMBLE IN FRONT OF THE CASTLE TO GREET OUR GUESTS BEFORE THE WELCOMING FEAST.  
"Only a week away!" said Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff, emerging from the crowd, his eyes gleaming. "I wonder if Cedric knows? Think I'll go and tell him...."

"Cedric?" said Ron blankly as Ernie hurried off (not realizing that Cedric was already in the room near the staircase).

"Diggory," said Harry. "He must be entering the tournament."

"That idiot, Hogwarts champion?" said Ron as we pushed our way through the chattering crowd toward the staircase.

"He's not an idiot. You just don't like him because he beat Gryffindor at Quidditch," I said angrily. "He's a really good student - and he's a prefect...and he has been nothing but nice to me since day one - which if I might remind you, was when he saved my life!"

"You only like him because he's handsome," said Ron scathingly.

"Excuse me, I don't like people just because they're handsome!" I said indignantly.

Ron gave a loud false cough, which sounded oddly like "Lockhart!"

"Are you kidding me right now? I never liked Lockhart one bit! THAT was Hermione, Ron! I know us girls seem all the same to you - but if you are going to accuse someone of something, maybe, I don't know...how about you make sure you know what the hell you are talking about!" By this point I was shouting furiously. I could feel the dark energy within me swelling to the surface, begging to be let loose and was so incredibly tempted to just let it this time; but the image of burning bodies and the terrified faces of the girls at the orphanage flashed across my eyes and I clenched my hands into fists and did my best to quell the burning energy inside me. I turned around, ignoring the shocked faces of Harry, Hermione, and everyone else in the room (which included the twins, Percy, Draco, and about 50 other students of various houses and years) intent on heading back to my room to stew, when I decided I had one last thing to say and spun back around and marched up to Ron.

"Did you ever think that maybe I like Cedric simply because he.is.a.genuinely.nice.guy? He actually talks to me for the sake of getting to know ME! Not just to get help on some bloody homework assignment that you were too damn lazy to do on your own! Explain to me this, Ron. When have you EVER talked to me about something other than your homework or when Hermione or Harry was around? Hmmm, lemme think...oh right, NEVER! But you don't see me making unfounded accusations about you and your love life - or lack thereof! Considering I spent almost the entire summer with you and you didn't make any effort to talk to ME, how the hex would you know anything about me or what I like? I've spent less time with all of your brothers combined than I have with you and I would still say that they know me better than you! So don't you dare stand there and comment on who I like or don't like when you really don't know anything about me!" I huffed and turned on my heel to storm out of the room but before I had gotten more then a few steps, I collided with something hard. I looked up and felt my face redden as I met Cedric's eyes.

"Come on, Princess, let's get out of here," he said. Though his voice and grip on my hand was gentle and held nothing but kindness, I could see his eyes shooting daggers over my shoulder at Ron. I glanced at Harry and Hermione and sent them a quick apologetic look before letting Cedric lead me up the staircase.

"I'm so sorry about Ron! He can be a bloody idiot sometimes and doesn't think things out before he says them."

"It's ok, Princess, I don't care what your friends think about me, just your opinion. And for the record, you are most definitely not like other girls and that friend of your's is crazy to mix you and Hermione up."

I blushed at his kind words. "You'd be surprised how many people get us confused! Well until the other day when Creepy Eye revealed my secret! Now I can't go anywhere or do anything without people commenting! I honestly don't know how you and Harry deal with it! My skin is always crawling with the sensation of being watched! Gahhhh!"

"Well most people don't have the pleasure of talking to you...as I think you mentioned just now. You definitely got your point across, Princess! Anyways, your friends are lucky to have you in their lives - I, for one, would be thrilled to have you in mine and would never take advantage of your companionship! and Creepy Eye? Hah! I like it!"

I looked at Cedric with wide eyes. "What do you mean 'would be'! I thought I already was?" a horrible thought came to me. "or are we not friends yet? I mean, I thought we were by now and with all the time we spent together last year, but I'm still relatively new to this whole 'friendship' concept so if I got it wrong then I'm really sorry!"

Cedric looked horrified at my words and I felt a sense of dread as I waited for his response.

"Of course I consider you as a...a...friend! How could you even doubt that! I just wasn't entirely sure if...if you felt the same way!"

"Oh!...Oh, okay...um I guess that clears that up then?" I squeaked out, too scared to admit that I may or may not like him as a little more than a friend. I mean Ron DID have a point - he was HANDSOME! I had seen more than half the female population at this school try to win him over and he turned them all down...I didnt't want to ruin what friendship we did have based on some silly notion that maybe I was different. I mean how many of those girls had probably thought the exact same thing!

So I kept my mouth shut as we walked back to my room and when we sat by the fireplace working on homework together, I did my very best not to notice how the flames lit up his face and made his eyes sparkle.

********************************************  
Harry's POV

"You really are an idiot sometimes Ron!" Hermione said slowly as we watched Kat's back disappear up the staircase.

I opened my mouth to tell Ron to go apologize but Fred and George came over and beat me to it.

"Hey Freddy?"

"Yes, Georgy?"

"Am I right to assume that I speak for the entire Weasley clan - except maybe Percy - when I tell our little brother that he is the biggest git I've ever known?"

"Yes, George, I think you'd be quite right about that. Bill and Charlie would be ashamed. Is what she said true, Ron? You've spent the last 3 or so years with her and never ONCE talked to her about anything other than homework or whatever mystery you were solving?"

Ron nodded meekly as I thought back and came to the same conclusion myself. Wow, how had I never noticed that before?

"Well, little bro," said George.

"You better fix this," said Fred.

"Before it gets any worse," said George.

"As much as we like to mess with our friends,"

"we would NEVER treat them the way you have, I mean...I know you're clueless about girls, but come on, Ronnie! Surely we've taught you better than this!"

Ron looked down at the floor and I could tell he genuinely felt bad. It was clear that none of us had noticed what Kat had and I shook my head annoyed with myself. This is what I meant! I was always messing up when it came to her! I was always watching from the sidelines as she got hurt one way or the other! It really needed to stop! Ron was one of my best friends and I had completely missed the fact that he had never spent any alone time with Kat or never really talked about anything other than homework or our adventures! I really needed to step up and do a better job of being Kat's...friend.

********************************************  
Katrina's POV

The appearance of the sign in the entrance hall had a marked effect upon the inhabitants of the castle. During the following week, there seemed to be only one topic of conversation, no matter where I went: the Triwizard Tournament. Rumors were flying from student to student like highly contagious germs: who was going to try for Hogwarts champion, what the tournament would involve, how the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang differed from themselves.

I noticed too that the castle seemed to be undergoing an extra-thorough cleaning. Several grimy portraits had been scrubbed, much to the displeasure of their subjects, who sat huddled in their frames muttering darkly and wincing as they felt their raw pink faces. The suits of armor were suddenly gleaming and moving without squeaking, and Argus Filch, the caretaker, was behaving so ferociously to any students who forgot to wipe their shoes that he terrified a pair of first-year girls into hysterics.

Other members of the staff seemed oddly tense too.

"Longbottom, kindly do not reveal that you can't even perform a simple Switching Spell in front of anyone from Durmstrang!" Professor McGonagall barked at the end of one particularly difficult lesson, during which Neville had accidentally transplanted his own ears onto a cactus.

When we went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, we found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffiindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers' table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down across Fred and George and I sat down between them, trying to maintain my distance from Ron. Once again, and most unusually, the twins were sitting apart from everyone else and conversing in low voices.

"It's a bummer, all right," George was saying gloomily to Fred as I squeezed in between them. But if he won't talk to us in person, we'll have to send him the letter after all. Or we'll stuff it into his hand. He can't avoid us forrever."

"Who's avoiding you?" said Ron, sitting down.

"Wish you would," said Fred, looking irritated at the interruption.

"What's a bummer?" Ron asked George.

"Having a nosy and disrespectful git like you for a brother," said George.

"You two got any ideas on the Triwizard Tournament yet?" Harry asked trying to break up the tension between the brothers. "Thought any more about trying to enter?"

"I asked McGonagall how the champions are chosen but she wasn't telling," said George bitterly. "She just told me to shut up and get on with transfiguring my raccoon."

"Wonder what the tasks are going to be?" said Ron thoughtfully. "You know, I bet we could do them, Harry. We've done dangerous stuff before...."

"Not in front of a panel of judges, you haven't," said Fred. "McGonagall says the champions get awarded points according to how well they've done the tasks."

"Who are the judges?" Harry asked.

"Well, the Heads of the participating schools are always on the panel," said Hermione, and everyone looked around at her, rather surprised, "because all three of them were injured during the Tournament of 1792, when a cockatrice the champions were supposed to be catching went on the rampage."

She noticed the boys all looking at her and said, with a sigh, "It's all in Hogwarts, A History. Though, of course, that book's not entirely reliable. A Revised History of Hogwarts would be a more accurate title. Or A Highly Biased and Selective History of Hogwarts, Which Glosses Over the Nastier Aspects of the School."

"What are you on about?" said Ron, though I thought I knew what was coming.

"House-elves!" said Hermione, her eyes flashing. "Not once, in over a thousand pages, does Hogwarts, A History mention that we are all colluding in the oppression of a hundred slaves!"

I shook my head and focused on eating. I was having enough friendship problems as is and didn't want to stir up any new ones.

Ron now rolled his eyes at the ceiling, which was flooding them all in autumn sunlight, and Fred became extremely interested in his bacon (George, however, leaned in toward Hermione.)

"Listen, have you ever been down in the kitchens, Hermione?"

"No, of course not," said Hermione curtly, "I hardly think students are supposed to -"

"Well, we have," said George, indicating Fred, "loads of times, to nick food. And we've met them, and they're happy. They think they've got the best job in the world -"

"That's because they're uneducated and brainwashed!" Hermione began hotly, but her next few words were drowned out by the sudden whooshing noise from overhead, which announced the arrival of the post owls. I looked up at once, and saw Hedwig and Salazar soaring toward Harry and I. Hermione stopped talking abruptly; she and Ron watched Hedwig and Salazar anxiously as they both fluttered down onto Harry's and my shoulders, folded their wings, and held out their legs wearily.

I pulled off Sirius's reply and offered Salazar my bacon rinds, which he ate gratefully. Then, checking that Fred and George were safely immersed in further discussions about the Triwizard Tournament, I read out my father's letter in a whisper to Ron and Hermione after Harry read his.

Nice try, my Angelous Paulo,

I'm back in the country and well hidden. I want you to keep me posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts. Don't use Salazar, keep changing owls, and don't worry about me, just watch out for yourself Don't forget what I said about your scars.

S  
P.S. I would be honored for you to take my last name. Your last comment made me laugh harder then I have in years. I almost forgot how feisty you could be! I'm sorry to hear about your secret being revealed but I have no doubt that you will be strong enough to handle anything that comes your way.

"Why d'you have to keep changing owls?" Ron asked in a low voice. I ignored him and let Hermione answer. I was not going to talk to Ron until the idiot decided to grow a pair and just apologize and make an effort to get to know me. It wasn't like I was asking for much! But it had been a whole week and no response.

"Hedwig and Salazar will attract too much attention," said Hermione at once. "They stand out. A snowy white and pitch black owl that keep returning to wherever he's hiding...I mean, they're not native birds, are they?"

I rolled up the letter and slipped it inside my robes, wondering whether I felt more or less worried than before. I supposed that Sirius managing to get back without being caught was something. I couldn't deny either that the idea that my father was much nearer was reassuring; at least I wouldn't have to wait so long for a response every time I wrote.

"Thanks, Salazar," I said, stroking his feathers. He hooted sleepily, dipped his beak briefly into my goblet of orange juice, then took off again, clearly desperate for a good long sleep in the Owlery.

There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air that day. Nobody was very attentive in lessons, being much more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang; even Potions was more bearable than usual, as it was half an hour shorter. When the bell rang early, Harry, Ron, Hermione and I hurried up to Gryffindor Tower, deposited our bags and books as we had been instructed (well I snapped my fingers and sent mine to my room), pulled on our cloaks, and rushed back downstairs into the entrance hall.

The Heads of Houses were ordering their students into lines. I stood out to the side and watched, unsure of where to go.

"Weasley, straighten your hat," Minnie snapped at Ron. "Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair."

Parvati scowled and removed a large ornamental butterfly from the end of her plait.

"Follow me, please," said Minnie. "First years in front...no pushing...." She met  
my eyes and motioned for me to come join her at the front of the line so I did so.

We filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening; dusk was falling and a pale, transparent-looking moon was already shining over the Forbidden Forest.

"Nearly six," I heard Ron say as he checked his watch and then stared down the drive that led to the front gates. I rolled my eyes. Thanks for pointing out the obvious as usual,  
Ron, I thought to myself. "How d'you reckon they're coming? The train?"

"I doubt it," said Hermione.

"How, then? Broomsticks?" Harry suggested, looking up at the starry sky.

"I don't think so...not from that far away...."

"A Portkey?" Ron suggested. "Or they could Apparate - maybe you're allowed to do it under seventeen wherever they come from?"

"You can't Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds, how often do Kat and I have to tell you?" said Hermione impatiently.

We scanned the darkening grounds excitedly, but nothing was moving; everything was still, silent, and quite as usual. I was starting to feel cold. I wished they'd hurry up....Maybe the foreign students were preparing a dramatic entrance...I remembered what Mr. Weasley had said back at the campsite before the Quidditch World Cup: "always the same - we can't resist showing off when we get together...."

And then Grandfather called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers -

"Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where?" said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.

"There!" yelled a sixth year, pointing over the forest.

Something large, much larger than a broomstick - or, indeed, a hundred broomsticks - was hurtling across the deep blue sky toward the castle, growing larger all the time.

"It's a dragon!" shrieked one of the first years, losing her head completely.

"Don't be stupid...it's a flying house!" said Dennis Creevey.

Dennis's guess was closer....As the gigantic black shape skimmed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, we saw a gigantic, powderblue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring toward us, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.

 

The front three rows of students drew backward as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed - then, with an almighty crash that made Neville jump backward onto a Slytherin fifth year's foot, the horses' hooves, larger than dinner plates, hit the ground. A second later, the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes.

I just had time to see that the door of the carriage bore a coat of arms (two crossed, golden wands, each emitting three stars) before it opened.

A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forward, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor, and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. Then I saw a shining, high-heeled black shoe emerging from the inside of the carriage - a shoe the size of a child's sled - followed, almost immediately, by the largest woman I had ever seen in my life. The size of the carriage, and of the horses, was immediately explained. A few people gasped.

I had only ever seen one person as large as this woman in his life, and that was Hagrid; I doubted whether there was an inch difference in their heights. Yet somehow - maybe simply because I was used to Hagrid - this woman (now at the foot of the steps, and looking around at the waiting, wide-eyed crowd) seemed even more unnaturally large. As she stepped into the light flooding from the entrance hall, she was revealed to have a handsome, olive-skinned face; large, black, liquid-looking eyes; and a rather beaky nose. Her hair was drawn back in a shining knob at the base of her neck. She was dressed from head to foot in black satin, and many magnificent opals gleamed at her throat and on her thick fingers.

Dumbledore started to clap; the students, following his lead, broke into applause too, many of them standing on tiptoe, the better to look at this woman.

Her face relaxed into a gracious smile and she walked forward toward my grandfather, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, though tall himself, had barely to bend to kiss it.

"My dear Madame Maxime," he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dort," said Madame Maxime in a deep voice. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you," said Dumbledore.

"My pupils," said Madame Maxime, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her.

My attention had been so focused upon Madame Maxime, that I hadn't noticed that about a dozen boys and girls, all, by the look of them, in their late teens, had emerged from the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxime. They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them were wearing cloaks. A few had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads. From what I could see of them (they were standing in Madame Maxime's enormous shadow), they were staring up at Hogwarts with apprehensive looks on their faces.

"As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime asked.

"He should be here any moment," said Dumbledore. "Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

"Warm up, I think," said Madame Maxime. "But ze 'orses -"

"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them," said Dumbledore, "the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other - er - charges."

"Skrewts," Ron muttered to Harry, grinning.

"My steeds require - er - forceful 'andling," said Madame Maxime, looking as though she doubted whether any Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Hogwarts could be up to the job. "Zey are very strong...."

"I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job," said Dumbledore, smiling.

"Very well," said Madame Maxime, bowing slightly. "Will you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?"

"It will be attended to," said Dumbledore, also bowing.

"Come," said Madame Maxime imperiously to her students, and the Hogwarts crowd parted to allow her and her students to pass up the stone steps.

"How big d'you reckon Durmstrang's horses are going to be?" Seamus Finnigan said, leaning around Lavender and Parvati to address Harry and Ron.

"Well, if they're any bigger than this lot, even Hagrid won't be able to handle them," said Harry. "That's if he hasn't been attacked by his skrewts. Wonder what's up with them?"

"Maybe they've escaped," said Ron hopefully.

"Oh don't say that," said Hermione with a shudder. "Imagine that lot loose on the grounds...."

They stood, shivering slightly now, waiting for the Durmstrang party to arrive. Most people were gazing hopefully up at the sky.

For a few minutes, the silence was broken only by Madame Maxime's huge horses snorting and stamping. But then -

"Can you hear something?" said a random second year suddenly.

I listened; a loud and oddly eerie noise was drifting toward us from out of the darkness: a muffled rumbling and sucking sound, as though an immense vacuum cleaner were moving along a riverbed....

"The lake!" yelled Lee Jordan, pointing down at it. "Look at the lake!"

From our position at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds, we had a clear view of the smooth black surface of the water - except that the surface was suddenly not smooth at all. Some disturbance was taking place deep in the center; great bubbles were forming on the surface, waves were now washing over the muddy banks -and then, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake's floor....

What seemed to be a long, black pole began to rise slowly out of the heart of the whirlpool...and then I saw the rigging....

"It's a mast!" I said to Harry and Hermione.

Slowly, magnificently, the ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it were a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide toward the bank. A few moments later, we heard the splash of an anchor being thrown down in the shallows, and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank.

 

People were disembarking; we could see their silhouettes passing the lights in the ship's portholes. All of them, I noticed, seemed to be built along the lines of Crabbe and Goyle...but then, as they drew nearer, walking up the lawns into the light streaming from the entrance hall, I saw that their bulk was really due to the fact that they were wearing cloaks of some kind of shaggy, matted fur. But the man who was leading them up to the castle was wearing furs of a different sort: sleek and silver, like his hair. I shivered as I looked at him, and not because of the weather.

"Dumbledore!" he called heartily as he walked up the slope. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Grandfather replied. Karkaroff had a fruity, unctuous voice; when he stepped into the light pouring from the front doors of the castle we saw that he was tall and thin like Dumbledore, but his white hair was short, and his goatee (finishing in a small curl) did not entirely hide his rather weak chin. When he reached my grandfather, he shook hands with both of his own.

"Dear old Hogwarts," he said, looking up at the castle and smiling; his teeth were rather yellow, and I noticed that his smile did not extend to his eyes, which remained cold and shrewd. I narrowed my eyes, instantly not liking this man. "How good it is to be here, how good....Viktor, come along, into the warmth...you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold..."

Karkaroff beckoned forward one of his students. As the boy passed, I caught a glimpse of a prominent curved nose and thick black eyebrows. I didn't need to see the punch on the arm Ron gave Harry, or to hear the hiss in my friend's ear, to recognize that profile.

"- it's Krum!"

********************************************

In-line Comments

\- If anyone gets the Ada reference bonus points!  
\- what do you think of the nicknames? not so good with nicknames usually which is why I dont try often but it just got written accidentally so decided to go with it  
\- yes the letter is kinda long and rambling but i figured it gave more insight to her character through her own words/Sirius is all on his own so i'm sure he doesnt mind the extra reading material  
\- for those less focused when reading; Harry is the next person that Peeves sees and in the book he has to dodge out of the way   
\- hadnt planned on it but her words to Harry about Hedwig and girls totally foreshadows her argument with Ron - even when im not trying to be awesome im awesome :p  
\- hehe hope the whole hand licking thing didnt seem to weird or something ive just totally done that to ppl when they put their hand over my mouth - if someone does so its either getting bitten or licked lol whatever i think theyll like the least  
\- Moody's imperius curse is having little effect on her because she is starting to embrace her powers/getting better at legilimancy/voldemort obviously has more power/the whole "he's her father" and fathers have influence on their daughters - though she doesn't realize it but he's also subtly encouraging her dark side to come out hence why she will be having  
more of a temper (that and shes just getting older/puberty yada yada) so he IS having an effect just not in the way she thinks  
\- oh gawddd i just used the word sparkle in the same sentence as cedric (aka robert pattenson) kill me now! it was not on purpose  
\- ugh Ron being cclueless sorry it kinda just typed itself and I wanted to make an extra long chapter since its been so long since ive posted so let me know if it was too much or if you liked it  
\- does anyone else notice how none of Maxime's boy students made it into the film? or did i completely miss that?p


	74. The Goblet of Fire

Katrina's POV

"I don't believe it!" I heard Ron say, in a stunned voice, as we all filed back up the steps behind the party from Durmstrang. "Krum, Harry! Viktor Krum!"

"For heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player," I said. I mean, yeah he played amazing at the World Cup but he's just a guy! 

"Only a Quidditch player?" Ron said, looking at me as though he couldn't believe his ears. "Katrina - he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still at school!" I rolled my eyes and stalked past them and into the Great Hall.

As I recrossed the entrance hall I saw Lee Jordan jumping up and down on the soles of his feet to get a better look at the back of Krum's head. Several sixth-year girls were frantically searching their pockets as they walked 

"Oh I don't believe it, I haven't got a single quill on me -"

"D'you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?"

"Really?," I said as I passed the girls, now squabbling over the lipstick. Ugh, how pathetic.

I walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down. I saw Ron taking care to sit on the side facing the doorway, because Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students were still gathered around it, apparently unsure about where they should sit. I rolled my eyes - man I've been doing that a lot today.

The students from Beauxbatons had chosen seats at the Ravenclaw table. They were looking around the Great Hall with glum expressions on their faces. Three of them were still clutching scarves and shawls around their heads.

"It's not that cold," said Hermione defensively. "Why didn't they bring cloaks?" 

"Over here! Come and sit over here!" Ron hissed. "Over here! Hermione, budge up, make a space -" I found myself rolling my eyes to the ceiling yet again.

"What?"

"Too late," said Ron bitterly.

Viktor Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students had settled themselves at the Slytherin table. I could see Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle looking very smug about this. As I watched, Draco bent forward to speak to Krum.

"They look a lot happier than the Beauxbatons lot," said Harry. The Durmstrang students were pulling off their heavy furs and looking up at the starry black ceiling with expressions of interest; a couple of them were picking up the golden plates and goblets and examining them, apparently impressed.

Up at the staff table, Filch was adding chairs and I noticed that he was wearing his moldy old tailcoat in honor of the occasion. I was surprised to see that he added four chairs, two on either side of Dumbledore's.

"But there are only two extra people," I said, nudging Harry and Hermione. "Why's Filch putting out four chairs, who else is coming?"

"Eh?" said Ron vaguely. He was still staring avidly at Krum.

When all the students had entered the Hall and settled down at their House tables, the staff entered, filing up to the top table and taking their seats. Last in line were my grandfather, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime. When their headmistress appeared, the pupils from Beauxbatons leapt to their feet. A few of the Hogwarts students laughed. The Beauxbatons party appeared quite unembarrassed, however, and did not resume their seats until Madame Maxime had sat down on Dumbledore's left-hand side. Grandfather remained standing, and a silence fell over the Great Hall.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most particularly - guests," said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

One of the Beauxbatons girls still clutching a muffler around her head gave what was unmistakably a derisive laugh. I sat up in my seat and sent her a glare.

"No one's making you stay!" Hermione whispered, bristling at her as well.

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," said Dumbledore. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

He sat down, and I saw Karkaroff lean forward at once and engage him in conversation. I narrowed my eyes at him as I felt a quick tugging sensation where my scar was - but it faded as quick as it had started so I focused on dinner instead.

The plates in front of us had filled with food as usual. The house-elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops; there was a greater variety of dishes in front of us than I had ever seen, including several that were definitely foreign.

"What's that?" said Ron, pointing at a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak-and-kidney pudding.

"Bouillabaisse," said Hermione.

"Bless you," said Ron.

"It's French," said Hermione, "I had it on holiday summer before last. It's very nice."

"I'll take your word for it," said Ron, helping himself to black pudding.

The Great Hall seemed somehow much more crowded than usual, even though there were barely twenty additional students there; perhaps it was because their differently colored uniforms stood out so clearly against the black of the Hogwarts' robes. Now that they had removed their furs, the Durmstrang students were revealed to be wearing robes of a deep bloodred.

Hagrid sidled into the Hall through a door behind the staff table twenty minutes after the start of the feast. He slid into his seat at the end and waved at Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I with a very heavily bandaged hand.

"Skrewts doing all right, Hagrid?" Harry called.

"Thrivin'," Hagrid called back happily.

"Yeah, I'll just bet they are," said Ron quietly. "Looks like they've finally found a food they like, doesn't it? Hagrid's fingers."

At that moment, a voice said, "Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?"

It was the girl from Beauxbatons who had laughed during grandfather's speech. She had finally removed her muffler. A long sheet of silvery-blonde hair fell almost to her waist. She had large, deep blue eyes, and very white, even teeth.

Ron went purple. He stared up at her, opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out except a faint gurgling noise. Yet again, I rolled my eyes...I'm supposed to be the one who likes people based on their looks alone? Psshhh!

"Yeah, have it," I said, pushing the dish toward the girl.

"You 'ave finished wiz it?"

"Yeah," Ron said breathlessly. "Yeah, it was excellent."

The girl picked up the dish and carried it carefully off to the Ravenclaw table. Ron was still goggling at the girl as though he had never seen one before. I glanced over at Harry as he started to laugh. The sound seemed to jog Ron back to his senses.

"She's a veela!" he said hoarsely to Harry.

"Of course she isn't!" said Hermione tartly. "I don't see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot!"

But she wasn't entirely right about that. As the girl crossed the Hall, many boys' heads turned, and some of them seemed to have become temporarily speechless, just like Ron.

"I'm telling you, that's not a normal girl!" said Ron, leaning sideways so he could keep a clear view of her. "They don't make them like that at Hogwarts!"

"They make them okay at Hogwarts," said Harry. I gritted my teeth as I saw him glancing over at Cho, who happened to be sitting only a few places away from the girl with the silvery hair.

"When you've both put your eyes back in," I said briskly.

"- you'll be able to see who's just arrived." Hermione finished for me as we both pointed up at the staff table. 

The two remaining empty seats had just been filled. Ludo Bagman was now sitting on Professor Karkaroff's other side, while Mr. Crouch, Percy's boss (and future husband going by Percy's infatuation), was next to Madame Maxime.

"What are they doing here?" said Harry in surprise.

"They organized the Triwizard Tournament, didn't they?" said Hermione. 

"I suppose they wanted to be here to see it start." I added.

When the second course arrived we noticed a number of unfamiliar desserts too. Ron examined an odd sort of pale blancmange closely, then moved it carefully a few inches to his right, so that it would be clearly visible from the Ravenclaw table. The girl who looked like a veela appeared to have eaten enough, however, and did not come over to get it.

Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now. I felt a slight thrill of excitement, wondering what was coming. Several seats down from us, Fred and George were leaning forward, staring at my grandfather with great concentration.

"The moment has come," said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket -"

"The what?" Harry muttered.

Ron shrugged and Hermione and I shared a look of exasperation.

"- just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation" - there was a smattering of polite applause - "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked so much more likable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced. Remembering him in his neat suit at the Quidditch World Cup, I thought he looked strange in wizard's robes. His toothbrush mustache and severe parting looked very odd next to grandfather's long white hair and beard.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts."

At the mention of the word "champions," the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen. I myself, slumped down in my chair and crossed my arms. I was excited to get the chance to meet students from different wizarding schools but in my opinion, the tournament seemed like a glorified pissing contest and I was still upset that there would be no quidditch because of it. Perhaps grandfather had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students; Dennis Creevey actually stood on his chair to see it properly, but, being so tiny, his head hardly rose above anyone else's. I couldn't help but chuckle under my breath as I watched him struggle - a little bit pleased that I wasn't the only person who had short people problems!

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways...their magical prowess - their daring - their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing.

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

Grandfather now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames.

Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Dumbledore, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

"An Age Line!" Fred Weasley said, his eyes glinting, as we all made our way across the Hall to the doors into the entrance hall. "Well, that should be fooled by an Aging Potion, shouldn't it? And once your name's in that goblet, you're laughing - it can't tell whether you're seventeen or not!"

"But I don't think anyone under seventeen will stand a chance," said Hermione and I, "we just haven't learned enough..."

"Speak for yourselves," said George shortly. "You'll try and get in, won't you, Harry?" I looked over at Harry with wide eyes. It was one thing for him to stumble into drama accidentally and entirely different to purposefully ask for trouble!

"Where is he?" said Ron, who wasn't listening to a word of this conversation, but looking through the crowd to see what had become of Krum. "Dumbledore didn't say where the Durmstrang people are sleeping, did he?"

But this query was answered almost instantly; we were level with the Slytherin table now, and Karkaroff had just bustled up to his students.

"Back to the ship, then," he was saying. "Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?"

I saw Krum shake his head as he pulled his furs back on. "Professor, Ivood like some vine," said one of the other Durmstrang boys hopefully.

"I wasn't offering it to you, Poliakoff," snapped Karkaroff, his warmly paternal air vanishing in an instant. "I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy -"

Karkaroff turned and led his students toward the doors, reaching them at exactly the same moment as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I. Harry and I stopped to let him walk through first.

"Thank you," said Karkaroff carelessly, glancing at Harry.

And then Karkaroff froze. He turned his head back to Harry and stared at him as though he couldn't believe his eyes. Behind their headmaster, the students from Durmstrang came to a halt too. Karkaroff's eyes moved slowly up Harry's face and fixed upon his scar. The Durmstrang students were staring curiously at Harry too. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw comprehension dawn on a few of their faces and thanked Merlin that word hadn't yet spread to these foreigners about my own scar as well! 

The boy with food all down his front nudged the girl next to him and pointed openly at Harry's forehead.

"Yeah, that's Harry Potter," said a growling voice from behind us.

Professor Karkaroff spun around. Mad-Eye Moody was standing there, leaning heavily on his staff, his magical eye glaring unblinkingly at the Durmstrang headmaster.

The color drained from Karkaroff's face as Harry and I watched. A terrible look of mingled fury and fear came over him.

"You!" he said, staring at Moody as though unsure he was really seeing him.

"Me," said Moody grimly. "And unless you've got anything to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway." I blinked up at Moody wondering why he suddenly chose now to not pay any attention to me. I could have used this attitude from him in class!

It was true; half the students in the Hall were now waiting behind us, looking over one another's shoulders to see what was causing the holdup.

Without another word, Professor Karkaroff swept his students away with him. Moody watched him until he was out of sight, his magical eye fixed upon his back, a look of intense dislike upon his mutilated face.

I said goodbye to my friends outside of my room and went to bed early that night so as to be well rested for the next day. But try as I might, I tossed and turned for hours until I finally fell into a troubled sleep filled with rotting bones and whispered moans. 

********************************************

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I were not alone in rising much earlier than we usually did on weekends. When we went down into the entrance hall the next morning, we saw about twenty people milling around it, some of them eating toast, all examining the Goblet of Fire. It had been placed in the center of the hall on the stool that normally bore the Sorting Hat. A thin golden line had been traced on the floor, forming a circle ten feet around it in every direction.

"Anyone put their name in yet?" Ron asked a third-year girl eagerly.

"All the Durmstrang lot," she replied. "But I haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet."

"Bet some of them put it in last night after we'd all gone to bed," said Harry. "I would've if it had been me...wouldn't have wanted everyone watching. What if the goblet just gobbed you right back out again?"

Someone laughed behind Harry. Turning, we saw Fred, George, and Lee Jordan hurrying down the staircase, all three of them looking extremely excited.

"Done it," Fred said in a triumphant whisper to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I. "Just taken it."

"What?" said Ron.

"The Aging Potion, dung brains," said Fred.

"One drop each," said George, rubbing his hands together with glee. "We only need to be a few months older."

"We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins," said Lee, grinning broadly.

"I'm not sure this is going to work, you know," said Hermione warningly. 

"I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of this." I added knowing my grandfather was smart enough to anticipate an aging potion.

Fred, George, and Lee ignored us.

"Ready?" Fred said to the other two, quivering with excitement. "C'mon, then - I'll go first -"

We watched, fascinated, as Fred pulled a slip of parchment out of his pocket bearing the words Fred Weasley - Hogwarts. Fred walked right up to the edge of the line and stood there, rocking on his toes like a diver preparing for a fifty-foot drop. Then, with the eyes of every person in the entrance hall upon him, he took a great breath and stepped over the line.

For a split second I thought it had worked - George certainly thought so, for he let out a yell of triumph and leapt after Fred - but next moment, there was a loud sizzling sound, and both twins were hurled out of the golden circle as though they had been thrown by an invisible shot-putter. They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and to add insult to injury, there was a loud popping noise, and both of them sprouted identical long white beards.

The entrance hall rang with laughter. Even Fred and George joined in, once they had gotten to their feet and taken a good look at each other's beards.

"I did warn you," said a deep, amused voice, and everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall. He surveyed Fred and George, his eyes twinkling. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours." Grandfather turned to me and winked before sweeping out of the room and I couldn't help but laugh.

Fred and George set off for the hospital wing, accompanied by Lee, who was howling with laughter, and Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I, also chortling, went in to breakfast.

The decorations in the Great Hall had changed this morning. As it was Halloween, a cloud of live bats was fluttering around the enchanted ceiling, while hundreds of carved pumpkins leered from every corner. Harry led the way over to Dean and Seamus, who were discussing those Hogwarts students of seventeen or over who might be entering.

"There's a rumor going around that Warrington got up early and put his name in," Dean told us. "That big bloke from Slytherin who looks like a sloth."

Harry and I, who had played Quidditch against Warrington, shook our heads in disgust.

"We can't have a Slytherin champion!"

"And all the Hufflepuffs are talking about Diggory," said Seamus contemptuously. "But I wouldn't have thought he'd have wanted to risk his good looks." I frowned at this comment but chose to ignore it as I saw Ron glance my way.

"Listen!" said Hermione suddenly.

People were cheering out in the entrance hall. We all swiveled around in our seats and saw Angelina Johnson coming into the Hall, grinning in an embarrassed sort of way. A tall black girl who played Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Angelina came over to them, sat down, and said, "Well, I've done it! Just put my name in!"

"You're kidding!" said Ron, looking impressed.

"Are you seventeen, then?" asked Harry.

"Course she is, can't see a beard, can you?" said Ron.

"I had my birthday last week," said Angelina.

"Well, I'm glad someone from Gryffindor's entering," said Hermione. "I really hope you get it, Angelina!"

"Thanks, Hermione," said Angelina, smiling at her.

"Yeah, better you than Pretty-Boy Diggory, said Seamus, causing several Hufflepuffs passing their table to scowl heavily at him. I glared at him and he shamefully looked down at his plate.

"What're we going to do today, then?" Ron asked Harry, Hermione, and I when we had finished breakfast and were leaving the Great Hall.

"We haven't been down to visit Hagrid yet," said Harry.

"Okay," said Ron, "just as long as he doesn't ask us to donate a few fingers to the skrewts."

A look of great excitement suddenly dawned on Hermione's face.

"I've just realized - I haven't asked Hagrid to join S.P.E.W. yet!" she said brightly. "Wait for me, will you, while I nip upstairs and get the badges?"

"What is it with her?" said Ron, exasperated, as Hermione ran away up the marble staircase.

"Hey, Ron," said Harry suddenly. "It's your friend..."

The students from Beauxbatons were coming through the front doors from the grounds, among them, the veela-girl. Those gathered around the Goblet of Fire stood back to let them pass, watching eagerly.

Madame Maxime entered the hall behind her students and organized them into a line. One by one, the Beauxbatons students stepped across the Age Line and dropped their slips of parchment into the blue-white flames. As each name entered the fire, it turned briefly red and emitted sparks.

"What d'you reckon'll happen to the ones who aren't chosen?" Ron muttered to Harry as the veela-girl dropped her parchment into the Goblet of Fire. "Reckon they'll go back to school, or hang around to watch the tournament?"

"Dunno," said Harry. "Hang around, I suppose....Madame Maxime's staying to judge, isn't she?"

When all the Beauxbatons students had submitted their names, Madame Maxime led them back out of the hall and out onto the grounds again.

"Where are they sleeping, then?" said Ron, moving toward the front doors and staring after them.

A loud rattling noise behind us announced Hermione's reappearance with the box of S. P. E.W. badges.

"Oh good, hurry up," said Ron, and he jumped down the stone steps, keeping his eyes on the back of the veela-girl, who was now halfway across the lawn with Madame Maxime. I rolled my eyes at his obsessed behavior.

As we neared Hagrid's cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the mystery of the Beauxbatons' sleeping quarters was solved. The gigantic powder-blue carriage in which they had arrived had been parked two hundred yards from Hagrid's front door, and the students were climbing back inside it. The elephantine flying horses that had pulled the carriage were now grazing in a makeshift paddock alongside it.

Harry and I knocked on Hagrid's door, and Fang's booming barks answered instantly.

"'Bout time!" said Hagrid, when he'd flung open the door. "Thought you lot'd forgotten where I live!"

"We've been really busy, Hag -" Hermione started to say, but then she stopped dead, looking up at Hagrid, apparently lost for words.

Hagrid was wearing his best (and very horrible) hairy brown suit, plus a checked yellow-and-orange tie. This wasn't the worst of it, though; he had evidently tried to tame his hair, using large quantities of what appeared to be axle grease. It was now slicked down into two bunches - perhaps he had tried a ponytail like Bill's, but found he had too much hair. The look didn't really suit Hagrid at all. For a moment, Hermione and I goggled at him, then, obviously deciding not to comment, Hermione said, "Erm - where are the skrewts."

"Out by the pumpkin patch," said Hagrid happily. "They're gettin' massive, mus' be nearly three foot long now. On'y trouble is, they've started killin' each other."

"Oh no, really?" I sais, shooting a repressive look at Ron, who, staring at Hagrid's odd hairstyle, had just opened his mouth to say something about it.

"Yeah," said Hagrid sadly. "S' okay, though, I've got 'em in separate boxes now. Still got abou' twenty."

"Well, that's lucky," said Ron. Hagrid missed the sarcasm.

Hagrid's cabin comprised a single room, in one corner of which was a gigantic bed covered in a patchwork quilt. A similarly enormous wooden table and chairs stood in front of the fire beneath the quantity of cured hams and dead birds hanging from the ceiling. We sat down at the table while Hagrid started to make tea, and were soon immersed in yet more discussion of the Triwizard Tournament. Hagrid seemed quite as excited about it as we were.

"You wait," he said, grinning. "You jus' wait. Yer going ter see some stuff yeh've never seen before. Firs' task...ah, but I'm not supposed ter say."

"Go on, Hagrid!" Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I urged him, but he just shook his head, grinning.

"I don' want ter spoil it fer yeh," said Hagrid. "But it's gonna be spectacular, I'll tell yeh that. Them champions're going ter have their work cut out. Never thought I'd live ter see the Triwizard Tournament played again!"

We ended up having lunch with Hagrid, though we didn't eat much - Hagrid had made what he said was a beef casserole, but after Hermione unearthed a large talon in hers, we all lost our appetites. However, we enjoyed ourselves trying to make Hagrid tell us what the tasks in the tournament were going to be, speculating which of the entrants were likely to be selected as champions, and wondering whether Fred and George were beardless yet.

A light rain had started to fall by midafternoon; it was very cozy sitting by the fire, listening to the gentle patter of the drops on the window, watching Hagrid darning his socks and arguing with Hermione about house-elves - for he flatly refused to join S.P.E.W. when she showed him her badges.

"It'd be doin' 'em an unkindness, Hermione," he said gravely, threading a massive bone needle with thick yellow yarn. "It's in their nature ter look after humans, that's what they like, see? Yeh'd be makin' 'em unhappy ter take away their work, an' insutin' 'em if yeh tried ter pay 'em."

"But Harry set Dobby free, and he was over the moon about it!" said Hermione. "And we heard he's asking for wages now!"

"Yeah, well, yeh get weirdos in every breed. I'm not sayin' there isn't the odd elf who'd take freedom, but yeh'll never persuade most of 'em ter do it - no, nothin' doin', Hermione."

Hermione looked very cross indeed and stuffed her box of badges back into her cloak pocket.

By half past five it was growing dark, and Ron, Harry, Hermione, and I decided it was time to get back up to the castle for the Halloween feast - and, more important, the announcement of the school champions.

"I'll come with yeh," said Hagrid, putting away his darning. "Jus' give us a sec."

Hagrid got up, went across to the chest of drawers beside his bed, and began searching for something inside it. We didn't pay too much attention until a truly horrible smell reached our nostrils. Coughing, Ron said, "Hagrid, what's that?"

"Eh?" said Hagrid, turning around with a large bottle in his hand. "Don' yeh like it?"

"Is that aftershave?" said Hermione in a slightly choked voice.

"Er - eau de cologne," Hagrid muttered. He was blushing.

"Maybe it's a bit much," he said gruffly. "I'll go take it off, hang on..."

He stumped out of the cabin, and they saw him washing himself vigorously in the water barrel outside the window.

"Eau de cologne?" said Hermione in amazement. "Hagrid?"

"And what's with the hair and the suit?" said Harry in an undertone.

"Look!" said Ron suddenly, pointing out of the window. Hagrid had just straightened up and turned 'round. If he had been blushing before, it was nothing to what he was doing now. Getting to their feet very cautiously, so that Hagrid wouldn't spot them, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I peered through the window and saw that Madame Maxime and the Beauxbatons students had just emerged from their carriage, clearly about to set off for the feast too. We couldn't hear what Hagrid was saying, but he was talking to Madame Maxime with a rapt, misty-eyed expression I had only ever seen him wear once before - when he had been looking at the baby dragon, Norbert.

"He's going up to the castle with her!" said Hermione indignantly. "I thought he was waiting for us!"

Without so much as a backward glance at his cabin, Hagrid was trudging off up the grounds with Madame Maxime, the Beauxbatons students following in their wake, jogging to keep up with their enormous strides.

"He fancies her!" said Ron incredulously. "Well, if they end up having children, they'll be setting a world record - bet any baby of theirs would weigh about a ton."

We let ourselves out of the cabin and shut the door behind us. It was surprisingly dark outside. Drawing our cloaks more closely around ourselves, we set off up the sloping lawns.

"Ooh it's them, look!" Hermione whispered.

The Durmstrang party was walking up toward the castle from the lake. Viktor Krum was walking side by side with Karkaroff, and the other Durmstrang students were straggling along behind them. Ron watched Krum excitedly, but Krum did not look around as he reached the front doors a little ahead of Hermione, Ron, Harry, and I, and proceeded through us.

When we entered the candlelit Great Hall it was almost full. The Goblet of Fire had been moved; it was now standing in front of Dumbledore's empty chair at the teachers' table. Fred and George - clean-shaven again - seemed to have taken their disappointment fairly well.

"Hope it's Angelina," said Fred as we sat down.

"So do I!" said Hermione breathlessly. "Well, we'll soon know!"

The Halloween feast seemed to take much longer than usual. Perhaps because it was our second feast in two days, I didn't seem to fancy the extravagantly prepared food as much as I would have normally. Like everyone else in the Hall, judging by the constantly craning necks, the impatient expressions on every face, the fidgeting, and the standing up to see whether Dumbledore had finished eating yet, I simply wanted the plates to clear, and to hear who had been selected as champions.

At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Grandfather got to his feet. On either side of him, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students. Mr. Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested, almost bored.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" - he indicated the door behind the staff table - "where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging us into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting....A few people kept checking their watches...

"Any second," Lee Jordan whispered, two seats away from Harry and I.

The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it - the whole room gasped.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."

"No surprises there!" yelled Ron as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. I saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table and slouch up toward Dumbledore; he turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.

"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"

The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"

"It's her, Ron!" Harry shouted as the girl who so resembled a veela got gracefully to her feet, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair, and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

"Oh look, they're all disappointed," Hermione said over the noise, nodding toward the remainder of the Beauxbatons party. "Disappointed" was a bit of an understatement, I thought. Two of the girls who had not been selected had dissolved into tears and were sobbing with their heads on their arms.

When Fleur Delacour too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion next...

And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Grandfather pulled the third piece of parchment.

"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"

"No! " said Ron loudly, but nobody heard him except Harry and I; the uproar from the next table was too great. Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off toward the chamber behind the teachers' table. Before he disappeared though, he turned and winked at me; I blushed and looked down.

Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real -"

But Grandfather suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.

The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it were two pieces of parchment.

Automatically, it seemed, Grandfather reached out a long hand and seized the parchments. He held them out and stared at the names written upon them. There was a long pause, during which Grandfather stared at the slips in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Grandfather. And then Grandfather cleared his throat and read out -

"Harry Potter. Katrina!"


	75. The Five Champions

Katrina's POV

I sat there, aware that every head in the Great Hall had turned to look at Harry and I. I was stunned. I felt numb. I was surely dreaming. I had not heard correctly.

There was no applause. A buzzing, as though of angry bees, was starting to fill the Hall; some students were standing up to get a better look at Harry and I as we sat, frozen, in our seats.

Up at the top table, Minnie had got to her feet and swept past Ludo Bagman and Professor Karkaroff to whisper urgently to Grandfather, who bent his ear toward her, frowning slightly.

I turned to Ron, Hermione, and Harry; beyond them, I saw the long Gryffindor table all watching me, openmouthed.

"I didn't put my name in," Harry and I said blankly at the same time. "You know we didn't." I added.

Both of them stared just as blankly back.

At the top table, Grandfather had straightened up, nodding to Professor McGonagall.

"Harry Potter!" he called again. "Katrina! Up here, if you please!"

"Go on," Hermione whispered, giving Harry and I a slight push.

I got to my feet, trod on the hem of my robes, and stumbled slightly. Harry and I set off up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. It felt like an immensely long walk; the top table didn't seem to be getting any nearer at all, and I could feel hundreds and hundreds of eyes upon me, as though each were a searchlight. The buzzing grew louder and louder. After what seemed like an hour, I was right in front of Grandfather, feeling the stares of all the teachers upon me.

"Well...through the door, Harry...Katrina," said Grandfather. He wasn't smiling and as I looked into his blue eyes there was no twinkle - just a stoney expression with a hint of fear when he looked back at me.

I moved off along the teachers' table. Hagrid was seated right at the end. He did not wink at Harry or I, or wave, or give any of his usual signs of greeting. He looked completely astonished and stared at us as we passed like everyone else. We went through the door out of the Great Hall and found ourselves in a smaller room, lined with paintings of witches and wizards. A handsome fire was roaring in the fireplace opposite.

The faces in the portraits turned to look at us as we entered. I saw a wizened witch flit out of the frame of her picture and into the one next to it, which contained a wizard with a walrus mustache. The wizened witch started whispering in his ear.

Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, and Fleur Delacour were grouped around the fire. They looked strangely impressive, silhouetted against the flames. Krum, hunched-up and brooding, was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly apart from the other two. Cedric was standing with his hands behind his back, staring into the fire. Fleur Delacour looked around when Harry and I walked in and threw back her sheet of long, silvery hair.

"What is it?" she said. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?"

She thought we had come to deliver a message. I didn't know how to explain what had just happened. I just stood there, looking at the three champions. It struck me how very tall all of them were.

There was a sound of scurrying feet behind us, and Ludo Bagman entered the room. He took Harry and I by the arm and led us forward.

"Extraordinary!" he muttered, squeezing our arms. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen...lady," he added, approaching the fireside and addressing the other three. "May I introduce - incredible though it may seem - the fourth and fifth Triwizard champions?"

Viktor Krum straightened up. His surly face darkened as he surveyed Harry and I. Cedric looked at me in surprise and his face mirrored the fear on mine. He looked from Bagman to Harry to me and back again as though sure he must have misheard what Bagman had said. Fleur Delacour, however, tossed her hair, smiling, and said, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."

"Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Harry's and Katrina's names just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"

Krum's thick eyebrows contracted slightly. Cedric was still looking politely bewildered. Fleur frowned.

"But evidently zair 'as been a mistake," she said contemptuously to Bagman. "''Ey cannot compete. 'Ey are too young."

"Well...it is amazing," said Bagman, rubbing his smooth chin and smiling down at Harry and I. "But, as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as their name's come out of the goblet...I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage....It's down in the rules, you're obliged...Harry and Katrina will just have to do the best the -"

The door behind us opened again, and a large group of people came in: Grandfather, followed closely by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Minnie, and Sev. I heard the buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall, before Minnie closed the door.

"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy and girl are to compete also!"

Somewhere under my numb disbelief I felt a ripple of anger. Little boy and girl?

Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. The top of her handsome head brushed the candle-filled chandelier, and her gigantic black-satin bosom swelled.

"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she said imperiously.

"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. "Three Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed three champions - or have I not read the rules carefully enough?"

He gave a short and nasty laugh.

"C'est impossible," said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand with its many superb opals was resting upon Fleur's shoulder. "'Ogwarts cannot 'ave three champions. It is most injust."

"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place, though his eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."

"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," said Snape softly. I didn't fail to notice how he didn't mention me. His black eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here -"

"Thank you, Severus," said Grandfather firmly, and Sev went quiet, though his eyes still glinted malevolently through his curtain of greasy black hair.

Grandfather was now looking down at Harry and I, who looked right back at him, trying to discern the expression of the eyes behind the half-moon spectacles.

"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry? Or you Katrina?" he asked calmly.

"No," said Harry and I. I was very aware of everybody watching us closely. Sev made a soft noise of impatient disbelief in the shadows at Harry's response which I found irritating because he wasn't looking at me thinking I had done anything. 

"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" said Grandfather, ignoring Sev.

"No," we said vehemently.

"Ah, but of course 'ey is lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Sev was now shaking his head, his lip curling.

"They could not have crossed the Age Line," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "I am sure we are all agreed on that -"

"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Madame Maxime, shrugging.

"It is possible, of course," said Grandfather politely.

"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" said Minnie angrily. I completely agreed. "Really, what nonsense! Harry and Katrina could not have crossed the line themselves, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that they did not persuade an older student to do it for them, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!"

She shot a very angry look at Professor Snape.

"Mr. Crouch...Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more, "you are our - er - objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"

Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Mr. Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice.

"We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."

"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed.

"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff. He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."

"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out - it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament -"

"- in which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Karkaroff. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"

"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled a voice from near the door. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"

Moody had just entered the room. He limped toward the fire, and with every right step he took, there was a loud clunk.

"Convenient?" said Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody."

I could tell he was trying to sound disdainful, as though what Moody was saying was barely worth his notice, but his hands gave him away; they had balled themselves into fists.

"Don't you?" said Moody quietly. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's and Katrina's names in that goblet knowing they'd have to compete if they came out."

"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts three bites at ze apple!" said Madame Maxime.

"I quite agree, Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff, bowing to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards -"

"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter and Katrina," growled Moody, "but...funny thing...I don't hear them saying a word..."

"Why should 'ey complain?" burst out Fleur Delacour, stamping her foot. "'Ey 'as ze chance to compete, 'havn't 'ey' We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money - zis is a chance many would die for!"

"Maybe someone's hoping Potter and Katrina are going to die for it," said Moody, with the merest trace of a growl.

An extremely tense silence followed these words. Ludo Bagman, who was looking very anxious indeed, bounced nervously up and down on his feet and said, "Moody, old man...what a thing to say!"

"We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn't discovered six plots to murder him before lunchtime," said Karkaroff loudly. "Apparently he is now teaching his students to fear assassination too. An odd quality in a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dumbledore, but no doubt you had your reasons.

"Imagining things, am I?" growled Moody. "Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boy's and girl's names in that goblet..."

"Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?" said Madame Maxime, throwing up her huge hands.

"Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object!" said Moody. "It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament....I'm guessing they submitted their names under a fourth and fifth school, to make sure they were the only one in their category...."

"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody," said Karkaroff coldly, "and a very ingenious theory it is - though of course, I heard you recently got it into your head that one of your birthday presents contained a cunningly disguised basilisk egg, and smashed it to pieces before realizing it was a carriage clock. So you'll understand if we don't take you entirely seriously...."

"There are those who'll turn innocent occasions to their advantage," Moody retorted in a menacing voice. "It's my job to think the way Dark wizards do, Karkaroff - as you ought to remember...

"Alastor!" said Dumbledore warningly. I wondered for a moment whom he was speaking to, but then realized "Mad-Eye" could hardly be Moody's real first name. Moody fell silent, though still surveying Karkaroff with satisfaction - Karkaroff's face was burning.

"How this situation arose, we do not know," said Grandfather, speaking to everyone gathered in the room. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric, Harry, and Katrina have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do...."

"Ah, but Dumbly-dorr -"

"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it."

Dumbledore waited, but Madame Maxime did not speak, she merely glared. She wasn't the only one either. Sev looked furious; Karkaroff livid; Bagman, however, looked rather excited.

"Well, shall we crack on, then?" he said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honors?"

Mr. Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie.

"Yes," he said, "instructions. Yes...the first task..."

He moved forward into the firelight. Close up, I thought he looked ill. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and a thin, papery look about his wrinkled skin that had not been there at the Quidditch World Cup.

"The first task is designed to test your daring," he told Harry, Cedric, Fleur, Viktor, and I, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard...very important....

"The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges.

"The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."

Mr. Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore.

"I think that's all, is it, Albus?"

"I think so," said Dumbledore, who was looking at Mr. Crouch with mild concern. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"

"No, Dumbledore, I must get back to the Ministry," said Mr. Crouch. "It is a very busy, very difficult time at the moment....I've left young Weatherby in charge....Very enthusiastic...a little overenthusiastic, if truth be told..." Despite the grim events that had just occurred I couldn't help but grin inwardly over Percy's nickname.

"You'll come and have a drink before you go, at least?" said Dumbledore.

"Come on, Barry, I'm staying!" said Bagman brightly. "It's all happening at Hogwarts now, you know, much more exciting here than at the office!"

"I think not, Ludo," said Crouch with a touch of his old impatience.

"Professor Karkaroff - Madame Maxime - a nightcap?" said Dumbledore.

But Madame Maxime had already put her arm around Fleur's shoulders and was leading her swiftly out of the room. I could hear them both talking very fast in French as they went off into the Great Hall. Karkaroff beckoned to Krum, and they, too, exited, though in silence.

"Harry, Cedric, Katrina, I suggest you go up to bed," said Dumbledore, smiling at both of them. "I am sure Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise." I sighed, again wishing that I had been placed in a house. I had a feeling that no one was going to be happy that I would be competing.

I glanced at Cedric, who nodded, and we left together.

The Great Hall was deserted now; the candles had burned low, giving the jagged smiles of the pumpkins an eerie, flickering quality.

"So," said Cedric, with a slight smile. "We're playing against each other again!"

"I s'pose," said Harry. I really couldn't think of anything to say. The inside of my head seemed to be in complete disarray, as though my brain had been ransacked.

"So...tell me..." said Cedric as we reached the entrance hall, which was now lit only by torches in the absence of the Goblet of Fire. "How did you get your names in?"

"We didn't," said Harry, staring up at him. "We didn't put them in. We were telling the truth."

"Ah...okay," said Cedric. I could tell Cedric didn't believe us. "Well...see you, then."

Instead of going up the marble staircase, Cedric headed for a door to its right. I stood listening to him going down the stone steps beyond it, then, slowly, Harry and I started to climb the marble ones.

Was anyone except Ron and Hermione going to believe us, or would they all think we'd put ourselves in for the tournament? Yet how could anyone think that, when we were facing competitors who'd had three years' more magical education than we had - when we were now facing tasks that not only sounded very dangerous, but which were to be performed in front of hundreds of people? I had never once seriously considered entering!

But someone else had considered it...someone else had wanted Harry and I in the tournament, and had made sure we were entered. Why? To give us a treat? I didn't think so, somehow...

To see us make a fool of ourselves? Well, they were likely to get their wish....

But to get usbkilled?

Was Moody just being his usual paranoid self? Couldn't someone have put Harry's and my names in the goblet as a trick, a practical joke? Did anyone really want us dead?

I was able to answer that at once. Yes, someone wanted us dead, someone had wanted us dead ever since we had been a year old...Lord Voldemort. But how could Voldemort have ensured that our names got into the Goblet of Fire? Voldemort was supposed to be far away, in some distant country, in hiding, alone...feeble and powerless....

Yet in that dream Harry and I had had, just before we had awoken with our scars hurting, Voldemort had not been alone...he had been talking to Wormtail...plotting Harry's murder....

I sighed heavily as I quickly got ready for bed and eventually slipped under my covers. Nothing was making sense. Why did everything seem to happen to Harry and I?! I didn't want or need anymore attention then I was already getting lately due to the discovery of my scar! Ugh!

My dreams that night were full of fire, murky water, and gravestones - I tossed and turned restlessly all night and when morning arrived, dressed halfheartedly. I didn't bother to change my hair...I didn't want to bring any extra attention to myself.


	76. The Weighing of the Wands

Mad-Eye Moody's POV

I went to bed that night with a smile on my face. I had done it! I had completed the next step in my master's plan to come back to power. Now all I had to do was make sure the boy and girl managed to survive till the end otherwise everything would be ruined. I stuck my tongue out and wildly licked my lips as I grinned wickedly and went to sleep.

Katrina's POV

When I woke up on Sunday morning, it took me a moment to remember why I felt so miserable and worried. Then the memory of the previous night rolled over me. I sat up and got ready for the morning, but didn't bother to change the color of my hair. I didn't want to bring any extra attention to myself. 

Before I made it though, I ran into Harry and Hermione.

"Hello," Hermione said, holding up a stack of toast, which she was carrying in a napkin. "I brought you this....Want to go for a walk?"

"Good idea," I said gratefully looking between the two of them.

We went downstairs, crossed the entrance hall quickly without looking in at the Great Hall, and were soon striding across the lawn toward the lake, where the Durmstrang ship was moored, reflected blackly in the water. It was a chilly morning, and we kept moving, munching our toast, as Harry told Hermione exactly what had happened after we had left the Gryffindor table the night before. I stayed silent, trying not to relieve the nightmare. To our immense relief, Hermione accepted his story without question.

"Well, of course I knew you hadn't entered yourselves," she said when he'd finished telling her about the scene in the chamber off the Hall. "The look on your faces when Dumbledore read out your names! But the question is, who did put it in? Because Moody's right, Harry...Katrina, I don't think any student could have done it...they'd never be able to fool the Goblet, or get over Dumbledore's -"

"Have you seen Ron?" Harry interrupted.

Hermione hesitated.

"Erm...yes...he was at breakfast," she said.

"Does he still think we entered ourselves?"

"Well...no, I don't think so...not really," said Hermione awkwardly.

"He thinks we entered on purpose!" I exclaimed; this being news to me, but my statement was ignored.

"What's that supposed to mean, 'not really'?"

"Oh Harry, isn't it obvious?" Hermione said despairingly. "He's jealous!"

"Jealous?" Harry said incredulously. "Jealous of what? He wants to make a prat of himself in front of the whole school, does he?"

"Look," said Hermione patiently, "it's always you two who get all the attention, you know it is. I know it's not your fault," she added quickly, seeing Harry and I opening our mouths furiously. "I know you don't ask for it...but - well - you know, Ron's got all those brothers to compete against at home, and you're his best friends, and you're really famous - he's always shunted to one side whenever people see you two, and he puts up with it, and he never mentions it, but I suppose this is just one time too many..."

"Hey, most people ignore me as well! Least till recently when they found out about my scar!" I countered feeling hurt that Ron would be upset with me for something that was beyond my control!

"Great," said Harry bitterly. "Really great. Tell him from me I'll swap any time he wants. Tell him from me he's welcome to it....People gawping at my forehead everywhere I go..."

"I'm not teiling him anything," Hermione said shortly. "Tell him yourself. It's the only way to sort this out."

"I'm not running around after him trying to make him grow up!" Harry said, so loudly that several owls in a nearby tree took flight in alarm. "Maybe he'll believe I'm not enjoying myself once I've got my neck broken or -"

"That's not funny," said Hermione and I quietly. "That's not funny at all." She looked extremely anxious. "Harry, Katrina, I've been thinking - you know what we've got to do, don't you? Straight away, the moment we get back to the castle?"

"Yeah, give Ron a good kick up the -"

"Write to Sirius. You've got to tell him what's happened. He asked you two to keep him posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts....It's almost as if he expected something like this to happen. I brought some parchment and two quills out with me -"

"Come off it," said Harry, looking around to check that we couldn't be overheard, but the grounds were quite deserted. "He came back to the country just because our scars twinged. He'll probably come bursting right into the castle if we tell him someone's entered us in the Triwizard Tournament -"

I nodded in agreement. There was no way I wanted my father anywhere near the castle if it risked him getting caught! Especially not after everything we had had to do last year to get him out safely.

"He'd want you to tell him," said Hermione sternly. "He's going to find out anyway."

"How?"

"This isn't going to be kept quiet," said Hermione, very seriously. "This tournament's famous, and you're famous. I'll be really surprised if there isn't anything in the Daily Prophet about you two competing....Harry's already in half the books about You-Know-Who, you know...and Sirius would rather hear it from you two, I know he would."

"Okay, okay, we'll write to him," said Harry, throwing his last piece of toast into the lake. We stood and watched it floating there for a moment, before a large tentacle rose out of the water and scooped it beneath the surface. Then we returned to the castle.

"Whose owl are we going to use?" Harry said as we climbed the stairs. "He told us not to use Hedwig or Salazar again."

"Yeah and Drake wouldn't exactly be the most subtle!" I added sadly.

"Ask Ron if you can borrow -"

"I'm not asking Ron for anything," Harry said flatly. I rolled my eyes but stayed quiet; completing understanding Harry's displeasure at the idea.

"Well, borrow one of the school owls, then, anyone can use them," said Hermione.

We went up to the Owlery. Hermione gave us a piece of parchment, quills, and a bottle of ink, then strolled around the long lines of perches, looking at all the different owls, while Harry and I sat down against a wall and wrote our letter.

Dear Sirius,  
You told us to keep you posted on what's happening at Hogwarts, so here goes - I don't know if you've heard, but the Triwizard Tournament's happening this year and on Saturday night Katrina and I got picked as fourth and fifth champions. We don't know who put our names in the Goblet of Fire, because we didn't. The other Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory, from Hufflepuff.

We paused at this point, thinking. I had an urge to say something about the large weight of anxiety that seemed to have settled inside my chest along with the fact that everyone now knew about my scar and how I was worried about what that meant since it had always been a secret, but I couldn't think how to translate this into words, so I simply dipped my quill back into the ink bottle and wrote,

Hope you're okay, and Buckbeak - Harry and Katrina

"Finished," we told Hermione, getting to our feet. I looked over at Harry and grinned widely as I brushed straw off his robes. At this, Hedwig and Salazar fluttered down onto our shoulders and held out their legs.

"We can't use you," Harry told them, looking around for the school owls while I stroked Salazar's feathers rhythmically. "We've got to use one of these."

Hedwig gave a very loud hoot and took off so suddenly that her talons cut into Harry's shoulder. Salazar looked at me with a solemn but understanding look and gently took off and flew over to Hedwig to try and comfort her. She kept her back to Harry all the time he was tying our letter to the leg of a large barn owl. When the barn owl had flown off, Harry reached out to stroke Hedwig, but she clicked her beak furiously and soared up into the rafters out of reach; Salazar following close behind with one last glance at me.

"First Ron, then you," Harry said angrily. "This isn't my fault."

I walked over to Harry and patted him on the shoulder only to see him wince. I took out my wand and used the spell I had hear Narcissa say when she healed me two years back and the scratches on Harry's shoulder knitted together.

"Thanks," Harry said, gratefully.

********************************************

Harry had thought that matters would improve once everyone got used to the idea of us being champions, but the following day showed him how mistaken he was. I didn't think there would be much change, but I had been hoping that the uproar might have gone down at least a little...it hadn't. If anything, it was worse.

We could no longer avoid the rest of the school once we were back at lessons - and it was clear that the rest of the school, just like the Gryffindors, thought Harry and I had entered ourselves for the tournament. Unlike the Gryffindors, however, they did not seem impressed.

The Hufflepuffs, who were usually on excellent terms with me and the Gryffindors, had turned remarkably cold toward the whole lot of them. One Herbology lesson was enough to demonstrate this. It was plain that the Hufflepuffs felt that Harry and I had stolen their champion's glory; a feeling exacerbated, perhaps, by the fact that Hufflepuff House very rarely got any glory, and that Cedric was one of the few who had ever given them any, having beaten Gryffindor once at Quidditch.

My hopes that Cedric and the Hufflepuffs - or for that matter, any of the other houses, might not dislike me quite so much since I didn't belong to any one of the houses was wrong. Most took it as further proof that I was just trying to steal the limelight from Cedric just as I had done with Harry when I "revealed my scar". Didn't any of them realize that I didn't choose for my scar to be put on display and I certainly had never showed any interest in being the center of attention in the past?! In fact I had spent the last 3 years doing my best NOT to draw any attention! Did that not count for anything?

But Ernie Macmillan and Justin FinchFletchley, with whom Harry and I normally got on very well, did not talk to us even though we were repotting Bouncing Bulbs at the same tray - though they did laugh rather unpleasantly when one of the Bouncing Bulbs wriggled free from Harry's grip and smacked him hard in the face. Granted, I giggled under my breath as well, but not for the same reason.

Ron wasn't talking to Harry or I either. Our relationship had been rocky enough lately that I wasn't too bothered, but I could tell Harry was really upset about this despite trying to play it off as no big deal.

Hermione sat between Harry and Ron, making very forced conversation, but though both answered her normally, they avoided making eye contact with each other. I just kept my mouth shut, my head down, and tried to focus on my work since even Professor Sprout seemed distant with us - but then, she was Head of Hufflepuff House.

I would have been looking forward to seeing Hagrid under normal circumstances, but Care of Magical Creatures meant seeing the Slytherins too - the first time Harry and I would come face-to-face with them since becoming champions. As much as I liked to think at least Draco would support me, I was extremely doubtful that he would openly say as much to anyone. In fact he and Sev had been doing a great job at ignoring me ever since my name had come out of the goblet. Honestly, sometimes I think the two of them have more in common then Draco and his actual father do!

Predictably, Draco arrived at Hagrid's cabin with his familiar sneer firmly in place.

"Ah, look, boys, it's the champions," he said to Crabbe and Goyle the moment he got within earshot of Harry and I; though he was mostly looking at Harry. "Got your autograph books? Better get a signature now, because I doubt he's going to be around much longer...Half the Triwizard champions have died...how long d'you reckon you're going to last, Potter? Ten minutes into the first task's my bet."

"Really, Draco? And how long do you think I'll last then? Because it probably wont be much longer than Harry!" I snapped back. However, just like Sev, Draco pretended to ignore me and simply glared at Harry. I growled lowly at his comments and the fact that everyone was directing the brunt of their negative energy on Harry instead of sharing it equally. It was so not fair! I was vaguely aware of a low grumbling sound in the background as my thoughts continued to worry about how Harry must be feeling and then paused as the sounds finally registered. Was I really growling like an animal? How embarrassing!

I blinked a few times and decided to ignore that and refocused on my surroundings in time to see that Hagrid had emerged from the back of his cabin balancing a teetering tower of crates, each containing a very large Blast-Ended Skrewt.

To our horror, Hagrid proceeded to explain that the reason the skrewts had been killing one another was an excess of pent-up energy, and that the solution would be for each student to fix a leash on a skrewt and take it for a short walk. The only good thing about this plan was that it distracted everyone completely.

"Take this thing for a walk?" Draco repeated in disgust, staring into one of the boxes. "And where exactly are we supposed to fix the leash? Around the sting, the blasting end, or the sucker?" I may not have liked his tone of voice...but I couldn't help thinking this was a very accurate expression of my thoughts at the moment as well.

"Roun' the middle," said Hagrid, demonstrating. "Er - yeh might want ter put on yer dragon-hide gloves, jus' as an extra precaution, like. Harry, Katrina - you come here an' help me with this big one...."

Hagrid's real intention, however, was to talk to Harry and I away from the rest of the class. He waited until everyone else had set off with their skrewts, then turned to the two of us and said, very seriously, "So - yer two r' competin', In the tournament. School champions."

"One of the champions," I corrected him. I really didn't want people to forget about Cedric. After all, he was the one the goblet had truly chosen, not Harry or I!

Hagrid's beetle-black eyes looked very anxious under his wild eyebrows.

"No idea who put yeh in fer it?"

"You believe we didn't do it, then?" said Harry and I concealing with difficulty the rush of gratitude we felt at Hagrid's words.

"Course I do," Hagrid grunted. "Yeh say it wasn' you, an' I believe yeh - an' Dumbledore believes yer, an' all."

"Wish we knew who did do it," said Harry bitterly. I nodded my head in agreement. If I ever found the person responsible...let's just say life would become extremely difficult for them...

The three of us looked out over the lawn; the class was widely scattered now, and all in great difficulty. The skrewts were now over three feet long, and extremely powerful. No longer shell-less and colorless, they had developed a kind of thick, grayish, shiny armor. They looked like a cross between giant scorpions and elongated crabs- but still without recognizable heads or eyes. They had become immensely strong and very hard to control.

"Look like they're havin' fun, don' they?" Hagrid said happily. I assumed he was talking about the skrewts, because our classmates certainly weren't; every now and then, with an alarming bang, one of the skrewts' ends would explode, causing it to shoot forward several yards, and more than one person was being dragged along on their stomach, trying desperately to get back on their feet.

"Ah, I don' know, Harry, Katrina," Hagrid sighed suddenly, looking back down at us with a worried expression on his face. "School champions...everythin' seems ter happen ter you two, doesn' it?"

I didn't answer. Yes, everything did seem to happen to us, but it was more targeted at Harry - I just happened to be there as well. For that matter, the same rang true for Hermione and Ron, but no one seemed to give them a second thought. Hence why Ron was so upset with Harry and I for ending up champions.

********************************************

The next few days were some of mine and Harry's worst at Hogwarts. The closest I had ever come to feeling like this had been during the last months, of my second year, when I had discovered I was attacking my fellow students against my will and the following year when I had found out Sirius was my father and had wrongly thought him a horrible and evil wizard.

But Ron; and more importantly, Cedric, had been on my side then. I could have coped with the rest of the school's behavior if I could just have had Cedric back as a friend, but I wasn't going to try and persuade him to talk to me if he didn't want to. I had already told him on several occasions now that neither Harry and I had entered and that the last thing we had wanted was to steal his thunder, but if he wasn't going to believe me, then there was nothing more I could do. Everyone would figure out the truth eventually, I just hoped it was before Harry or I got seriously injured! I may not like a lot of attention, but it was still lonely with dislike pouring in on us from all sides.

Then there was the fact that Cedric looked the part of a champion so much more than Harry or I did. Exceptionally handsome, with his straight nose, dark hair, and gray eyes, it was hard to say who was receiving more admiration these days, Cedric or Viktor Krum. I actually saw the same sixth-year girls who had been so keen to get Krum's autograph begging Cedric to sign their school bags one lunchtime and I had to bite down so hard on my lip to control the overwhelming rush of power I had felt, that I drew blood.

Meanwhile there was no reply from father and Professor Trelawney was apparently predicting mine and Harry's deaths with even more certainty than usual, and Harry did so badly at Summoning Charms in Professor Flitwick's class that he was given extra homework - the only person to get any, apart from Neville. The only reason I hadn't suffered a familiar fate was because I had learned and been using the summoning charm since I first started out at Hogwarts. It was one of the most useful spells ever and the minute I had heard about it I had been focused on mastering it. There were times where I found myself having to be careful what I wished for because seconds later I would find it flying right at me!

"It's really not that difficult, Harry," Hermione and I tried to reassure Harry as we left Flitwick's class - Hermione had been making objects zoom across the room to her all lesson, as though she were some sort of weird magnet for board dusters, wastepaper baskets, and lunascopes, while I had spent it dodging out of the way as random things kept zooming towards me.

"You just weren't concentrating properly -" Hermione continued to say; explaining my predicament as well.

"Wonder why that was," said Harry darkly as Cedric Diggory walked past, surrounded by a large group of simpering girls, all of whom looked at Harry and I as though we were a particularly large Blast-Ended Skrewt. I gritted my teeth as I watched them fawn all over him and struggled not to release a low growl. "Still - never mind, eh? Double Potions to look forward to this afternoon..."

Double Potions was always a horrible experience for Harry, but these days it was nothing short of torture even for me. Being shut in a dungeon for an hour and a half with Sev glaring at Harry and ignoring me while the Slytherins, all of whom seemed determined to punish Harry and I as much as possible for daring to become school champions, was about the most unpleasant thing Harry and I could imagine. We had already struggled through one Friday's worth, with Hermione sitting next to us intoning "ignore them, ignore them, ignore them" under her breath, and I couldn't see why today should be any better. I was taking Hermione's words to heart and had started saying the same thing under my breath whenever something was bothering me lately, but just because I said it, didn't mean it was as easy to actually do!

When the three of us arrived at Snape's dungeon after lunch, we found the Slytherins waiting outside, each and every one of them wearing a large badge on the front of his or her robes. For one wild moment I thought they were S.P.E.W. badges and was about to nudge Hermione and congratulate her on pulling off a miracle - then I saw that they all bore the same message, in luminous red letters that burnt brightly in the dimly lit underground passage:

SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY-  
THE REAL HOGWARTS CHAMPION!

"Like them, Potter?" said Draco loudly as Harry and I approached. "And this isn't all they do - look!"

He pressed his badge into his chest, and the message upon it vanished, to be replaced by another one, which glowed green:

POTTER STINKS!

The Slytherins howled with laughter. Each of them pressed their badges too, until the message POTTER STINKS was shining brightly all around us. I felt the heat rise throughout my body as I clenched my hands into fists and forced down the urge to toss a fireball at Draco. It was not fair for Harry to be the only one being made fun of! As weird as its sounds, I'd really rather the blame was equal or more on me - Harry had enough things in his life to deal with, he didn't need this on top of everything else! My fists started to flare up as my control started to slip but Harry reached over and laid a hand gently over my fist and it went out.

"Oh very funny," Hermione said sarcastically to Pansy Parkinson and her gang of Slytherin girls, who were laughing harder than anyone.

"Yeah, really witty." I added, my voice soaked in sarcasm as well.

Ron was standing against the wall with Dean and Seamus. He wasn't laughing, but he wasn't sticking up for Harry either. I glared at him and at least he had the decency to look away in shame.

"Want one, Granger?" said Draco, holding out a badge to Hermione. "I've got loads. But don't touch my hand, now. I've just washed it, you see; don't want a Mudblood sliming it up."

Some of the anger I had been feeling for days and days seemed to burst through a dam in my chest. I saw Harry reach for his wand out of the corner of my eye, but I didn't need mine for what I wanted to do. People all around us scrambled out of the way, backing down the corridor as I formed a ball if fire in my hand and launched it straight at Draco's head. Sadly, he managed to duck just in time.

"Harry! Kat!" Hermione said warningly.

"Go on, then, Potter," Draco said quietly, drawing out his own wand. He was trying to act calm and in charge but I saw him glance back at the black stain my fireball had caused on the wall directly behind him with a hint of fear and I grinned humorlessly. "Moody's not here to look after you now - do it, if you've got the guts -"

For a split second, Draco and Harry looked into each other's eyes, then, at exactly the same time, both acted.

"Funnunculus!" Harry yelled.

"Densaugeo!" screamed Draco. I quickly twirled my fingers and cast a silent protection spell on Harry but unfortunately I didn't think about the people behind us.

Jets of light shot from both wands, hit each other in midair, and ricocheted off at angles - Harry's hit Goyle in the face, and Draco's hit Hermione; who I had not thought to protect. Goyle bellowed and put his hands to his nose, where great ugly boils were springing up - Hermione, whimpering in panic, was clutching her mouth.

"Hermione!"

Ron had hurried forward to see what was wrong with her; I turned and saw Ron dragging Hermione's hand away from her face. It wasn't a pretty sight. Hermione's front teeth - already larger than average - were now growing at an alarming rate; she was looking more and more like a beaver as her teeth elongated, past her bottom lip, toward her chin - panic-stricken, she felt them and let out a terrified cry.

I ran over to hear and pulled out my wand and cast a quick spell to stop then from growing any more. I didn't want to reveal my little nonverbal magic skill quite just yet. It wasn't very common or as easy as I found it to be and I knew it would raise a ton of questions that I couldn't begin to answer even if I wanted.

"And what is all this noise about?" said a soft, deadly voice.

Sev had arrived. The Slytherins clamored to give their explanations; Sev pointed a long yellow finger at Draco and said, "Explain."

"Potter attacked me, sir -" I rolled my eyes again, I believe I was the one who attacked first and yet I was ignored again. Sev wouldn't even look at me! Did the two of then really think pretending I didn't exist was going to magically solve everything!

"We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry shouted.

"- and he hit Goyle - look -"

Sev examined Goyle, whose face now resembled something that would have been at home in a book on poisonous fungi.

"Hospital wing, Goyle," Sev said calmly.

"Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron said. "Look!"

He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth - she was doing her best to hide them with her hands, though this was difficult as they had managed to grow down past her collar before I was able to freeze the spell. Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls were doubled up with silent giggles, pointing at Hermione from behind Snape's back.

Sev looked coldly at Hermione, then said, "I see no difference." I glared at my godfather, not that he noticed...

Hermione let out a whimper; her eyes filled with tears, she turned on her heel and ran, ran all the way up the corridor and out of sight. I wanted to run after her but decided that she probably wanted to be alone for now. I'd make sure to find her later on.

It was lucky, perhaps, that Harry,  
Ron, and I started shouting at Sev at the same time; lucky our voices echoed so much in the stone corridor, for in the confused din, it was impossible for him to hear exactly what we were calling him. He got the gist, however.

"Let's see," he said, in his silkiest voice. "Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention each for Potter and Weasley. Now get inside, or it'll be a week's worth of detentions."

My ears were ringing. The injustice of it made me almost want to curse my godfather into a thousand slimy pieces! I growled lowly under my breath as I passed him and for the first time in a long time, I saw him briefly glance at me in surprise at hearing my animal sounds.

On the other side of the dungeon, Draco turned his back on Sev and pressed his badge, smirking. POTTER STINKS flashed once more across the room.

"Just ignore it, Harry," I said mirroring Hermione since she wasn't here.

"Antidotes!" said Sev, looking around at us all, his cold black eyes glittering unpleasantly. "You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then, we will be selecting someone on whom to test one..."

Sev's eyes met Harry's, and I knew what was coming. Snape was going to poison him. My mind started racing to think of all the possible antidotes I might have to whip up in a hurry - and then a knock on the dungeon door burst in on my thoughts.

It was Colin Creevey; he edged into the room, beaming at Harry and I, and walked up to Snape's desk at the front of the room.

"Yes?" said Snape curtly.

"Please, sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter and Katrina upstairs." Snape stared down his hooked nose at Colin, whose smile faded from his eager face.

"Potter and Katrina have another hour of Potions to complete," said my godfather coldly. "They will come upstairs when this class is finished."

Colin went pink.

"Sir - sir, Mr. Bagman wants them," he said nervously. "All the champions have got to go, I think they want to take photographs..."

I would have given anything I owned to have stopped Colin saying those last few words. I chanced half a glance at Ron, but Ron was staring determinedly at the ceiling.

"Very well, very well," Snape snapped. "Potter, Katrina, leave your things here, I want you back down here later to test your antidotes."

"Please, sir - they've got to take their things with them," squeaked Colin. "All the champions..."

"Very well!" said Snape. "Potter, Katrina - take your bags and get out of my sight!"

I swung my bag over my shoulder, got up, and headed for the door glaring at my godfather. I did NOT like the tone of voice he was using to address me and nor was I used to it being directed at me. As we walked through the Slytherin desks, POTTER STINKS flashed at us from every direction.

"It's amazing, isn't it, Harry? Katrina?" said Colin, starting to speak the moment I had closed the dungeon door behind me. "Isn't it, though? You being champions?"

"Yeah, really amazing," said Harry and I together heavily as we set off toward the steps into the entrance hall. I had no heart to shout jinx just now or any time lately and doubtfully in the near future.

"What do they want photos for, Colin?" I asked tonelessly.

"The Daily Prophet, I think!"

"Great," said Harry dully. "Exactly what we need. More publicity."

"Good luck!" said Colin when we had reached the right room. Harry and I knocked on the door and entered.

We were in a fairly small classroom; most of the desks had been pushed away to the back of the room, leaving a large space in the middle; three of them, however, had been placed end-to-end in front of the blackboard and covered with a long length of velvet. Five chairs had been set behind the velvet-covered desks, and Ludo Bagman was sitting in one of them, talking to a witch Harry had never seen before, who was wearing magenta robes.

Viktor Krum was standing moodily in a corner as usual and not talking to anybody; though I saw him glance over at me in recognition as he remembered seeing me in the Top Box at the quidditch world cup. Cedric and Fleur were in conversation. Fleur looked a good deal happier than I had seen her so far; she kept throwing back her head so that her long silvery hair caught the light. A paunchy man, holding a large black camera that was smoking slightly, was watching Fleur out of the corner of his eye. Creep, I muttered to myself as I saw him turn his attention from Fleur to me with wide eyes as I entered the room.

Bagman suddenly spotted Harry and I, got up quickly, and bounded forward.

"Ah, here they are! Champion number four and Champion number five! In you come, Harry, Katrina, in you come...nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment -"

"Wand weighing?" Harry repeated nervously.

"We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead," said Bagman. "The expert's upstairs now with Dumbledore. And then there's going to be a little photo shoot. This is Rita Skeeter," he added, gesturing toward the witch in magenta robes. "She's doing a small piece on the tournament for the Daily Prophet...." I stared at her as I realized her name seemed familiar. Then I blinked and glared at her as I remembered that she had been the one to write that horrible story about the chaos at the world cup.

"Maybe not that small, Ludo," said Rita Skeeter, her eyes on Harry. Crap! She better not write a horrible piece about him! Otherwise I was going to have something to say about it!

Her hair was set in elaborate and curiously rigid curls that contrasted oddly with her heavy-jawed face. She wore jeweled spectacles. The thick fingers clutching her crocodile-skin handbag ended in two-inch nails, painted crimson.

"I wonder if I could have a little word with Harry before we start?" she said to Bagman, but still gazing fixedly at Harry. "The second youngest champion, you know...to add a bit of color?"

"Certainly!" cried Bagman. "That is - if Harry has no objection?"

"Er -" said Harry. I nudged him and shook my head furiously getting a really bad feeling.

"Lovely," said Rita Skeeter, and in a second, her scarlet-taloned fingers had Harry's upper arm in a surprisingly strong grip, and she was steering him out of the room again and opening a nearby door.

I stared after him trying to decide if I should go after him but before I could take a step, I was stopped by the camera man who had walked up to me. I silently groaned and tried to side step him but he grabbed my arm and smiled. I could see he had one or two teeth missing and his breath stank like malt mead and whiskey. I scrunched up my nose and tried to get his hands off me but his grip was tight.

"Hello, beautiful, what's your name?" He tried to ask sweetly but to me it sounded completely creepy. Did I mention this guy was a total creep!

"K-Katrina, look I actually have to go talk to my friend over there," I tried to say as I gestured with my free hand to Cedric who was glancing at us with a slightly curious and suspicious look.

"Oh, I'm sure that can wait a little bit!" the man said grinning widely again and strengthening the grip on my arm. I wouldn't be surprised to find a bruise later. "Listen, if you want, we can go somewhere else and I can take a few private pictures of you if you'd like..." He said, his face now so close to mine I could feel his hot breath on my cheeks. I grimaced. Who did this idiot take me for!

"N-No! Um, no t-thank you, I'm sure the ones with the other champions will be more then enough!" I stammered out, really not liking the way this man was looking me up and down like a peace of meat he wanted to scarf down.

"Are you sure? I'm certain I could find a way to make it worth your while," he said wiggling his brows up and down. I clamped my free hand over my mouth as I tried not to hurl at his insinuation. I tried to tug my arm out of his grip but it was like iron.

"No-no I'm fine, really!" I managed to squeak out as I drew my face as far back away from him as it could get.

"Are you absolutely sure? I like getting what I want and I don't take no for an answer easily!" Then man said darkly as his grip tightened on my arm causing me to wince as I felt my blood circulation stop and my arm started throbbing horribly as my heart tried to pump oxygen down to it and failed.

"Well, well t-too bad we c-can't always get what w-we want! Life isn't f-fair, sure you've l-learned that by n-now!" I managed to say as I stammered with every useless tug of my arm.

The camera man's eyes glinted dangerously as he leered over me and started to yank me towards the door. Fear laced throughout my body as I struggle to tear myself away but it was no use. Dread filled my body as my mind contemplated all the horrible things that could happen. Then suddenly the camera man was ripped off of me and sent stumbling into the wall.

"I do believe the lady said she wasn't interested!" Cedric's eyes glinted with fury as he stared down coldly at the camera men.

"Come, now! What's all this commotion?" Bagman cried cheerfully as he helped the camera man up from the floor.

"Silly, old me, just tripped over my equipment," the man said with an angry glance at Cedric and I as he went over to hide where Krum was standing, though his eyes never left me and I couldn't help but shiver. Suddenly I felt warm arms wrap around me and glanced up at Cedric.

"Th-thank you, Cedric!" I said shakily. "Who knows what could have happened if you hadn't stepped in!"

Cedric didn't say anything, just hugged me tighter and turned to glare at the camera man again.

We stood there like that for a while before Cedric looked down at me and softly said, "I'm sorry."

"What for?" I said not sure what he was talking about.

"For not believing you when you said you and Harry didn't enter. It's just I have so much on my mind and the whole of Hufflepuff is counting on me to win and I've barely had time to really comprehend that I'm really competing let alone that you and Harry have to as well, and then there's everyone whispering bad things about you and I'm sorry I ever believed them for one second. If only Harry's name had been called I think I still would but I know you better than that and you would never have entered yourself. Your almost as strict about following the rules as your friend Hermione! And that means if you didn't than Harry probably didn't as well...so...yeah..." he slipped into silence as he couldn't think of anything to say and I hugged him tighter as I told him I understood and that all was forgiven. Now if only Ron could see reason, then things might start resembling some sense of normal!

The door opened and I breathed a sigh of relief as Harry walked back in followed by that wretched woman.

"Hey, is everything ok?" Harry asked as we were ushered into the chairs near the door. I guess my face must still have been a tad wide-eyed for him to notice so I quickly filled him in. I had  
to force him back in his chair as he made to stand up and charge at the camera man. If the situation had been different I might even have laughed but just then I caught another glance of Rita Skeeter.

She took parchment out of her bag, spread it on her knee, sucked the end of the Quick-Quotes Quill, and placed it once more on the parchment.

"May I introduce Mr. Ollivander?" said Grandfather, taking his place at the judges' table with the other heads. "He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."

Harry and I looked around, and with a jolt of surprise saw an old wizard with large, pale eyes standing quietly by the window. Harry and I had met Mr. Ollivander before - he was the wand-maker from whom we had bought our own wands over three years ago in Diagon Alley.

"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?" said Mr. Ollivander, stepping into the empty space in the middle of the room.

Fleur Delacour swept over to Mr. Olhivander and handed him her wand.

"Hmm..." he said.

He twirled the wand between his long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks. Then he held it close to his eyes and examined it carefully.

"Yes," he said quietly, "nine and a half inches...inflexible...rosewood...and containing...dear me..."

"An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela," said Fleur. "One of my grandmuzzer's." My eyes widen in shock and a little disgust at that, but I guess what worked worked?

"Yes," said Mr. Ollivander, "yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands...however, to each his own, and if this suits you..." I silently laughed and thought about the veela's at the world cup. Yes, yes I could imagine veela hair making temperamental wands!

Mr. Ollivander ran his fingers along the wand, apparently checking for scratches or bumps; then he muttered, "Orchideous!" and a bunch of flowers burst from the wand tip.

"Very well, very well, it's in fine working order," said Mr. Ollivander, scooping up the flowers and handing them to Fleur with her wand. "Mr. Diggory, you next."

Fleur glided back to her seat, smiling at Cedric as he passed her.

"Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn't it?" said Mr. Ollivander, with much more enthusiasm, as Cedric handed over his wand. "Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn...must have been seventeen hands; nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail. Twelve and a quarter inches...ash...pleasantly springy. It's in fine condition...You treat it regularly?"

"Polished it last night," said Cedric, grinning.

I saw Harry look down at his own wand. I grimaced. I could see finger marks all over it. He gathered a fistful of robe from his knee and tried to rub it clean surreptitiously. Several gold sparks shot out of the end of it. Fleur Delacour gave him a very patronizing look, and he desisted. I waved my hand behind my back and cleaned his wand for him using a tidying spell. Thankfully I don't think he noticed but out of the corner of my eye, I saw Grandfather wink at me with his twinkling blue eyes and I grinned sheepishly.

Mr. Ollivander sent a stream of silver smoke rings across the room from the tip of Cedric's wand, pronounced himself satisfied, and then said, "Mr. Krum, if you please."

Viktor Krum got up and slouched, round-shouldered and duck-footed, toward Mr. Ollivander. He thrust out his wand and stood scowling, with his hands in the pockets of his robes. Seriously, does this man ever smile? Siriusly! I smiled as I thought of my father with that pun.

"Hmm," said Mr. Ollivander, "this is a Gregorovitch creation, unless I'm much mistaken? A fine wand-maker, though the styling is never quite what I...however..."

He lifted the wand and examined it minutely, turning it over and over before his eyes.

"Yes...hornbeam and dragon heartstring?" he shot at Krum, who nodded. "Rather thicker than one usually sees...quite rigid...ten and a quarter inches...Avis!"

The hornbeam wand let off a blast like a gun, and a number of small, twittering birds flew out of the end and through the open window into the watery sunlight.

"Good," said Mr. Ollivander, handing Krum back his wand. "...Mr. Potter."

Harry got to his feet and walked past Krum to Mr. Ollivander. He handed over his wand.

Mr. Ollivander spent much longer examining Harry's wand. Eventually, however, he made a fountain of wine shoot out of it, and handed it back to Harry, announcing that it was still in perfect condition and calling me up.

"Aaaah, yes," said Mr. Ollivander again repeating the words he had mumbled to Harry, his pale eyes suddenly gleaming. "Yes, yes, yes. How well I remember."

I could remember too. I could remember it as though it had happened yesterday....

Four summers ago, on mine and Harry's eleventh birthday, we had entered Mr. Ollivander's shop with Hagrid to buy our wands. Mr. Ollivander had taken our measurements and then started handing us wands to try. We had waved what felt like every wand in the shop, until at last we had found the ones that suited us- this one, which was made of holly, eleven inches long, and contained a single feather from the tail of a phoenix. Mr. Ollivander had been very surprised that Harry and I had been so compatible with the wands. "Curious," he had said, "curious," and not until we had asked what was curious had Mr. Olhivander explained that the phoenix feather in mine and Harry's wand had come from the same bird that had supplied the core of Lord Voldemort's. Furthermore, my wand apparently contained dragon heartstring and a drop of basilisk venom which I found ironic after the events of second year and after meeting Drake.

Harry and I had never shared this piece of information with anybody. We were very fond of our wands, and as far as we were concerned their relation to Voldemort's wand was something they couldn't help. However, I really hoped that Mr. Ollivander wasn't about to tell the room about it. I had a funny feeling Rita Skeeter's Quick-Quotes Quill might just explode with excitement if he did.

Finally, after the longest inspection yet, Ollivander made my wand produce a magnificent display of fire, water, earth, and wind before declaring it in perfect working condition.

"Thank you all," said Grandfather, standing up at the judges' table. "You may go back to your lessons now - or perhaps it would be quicker just to go down to dinner, as they are about to end -"

Feeling that at last something had gone right today, Harry and I got up to leave, but the man with the black camera jumped up and cleared his throat. Harry, Cedric, and I all glared at him.

"Photos, Dumbledore, photos!" cried Bagman excitedly. "All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?"

"Er - yes, let's do those first," said Rita Skeeter, whose eyes were upon Harry again. "And then perhaps some individual shots." I shivered at those words as the camera man looked at me when she said this but Cedric and Harry both wrapped an arm around me and I calmed down.

The photographs took a long time. Madame Maxime cast everyone else into shadow wherever she stood, and the photographer couldn't stand far enough back to get her into the frame; eventually she had to sit while everyone else stood around her. Karkaroff kept twirling his goatee around his finger to give it an extra curl; Krum, whom I would have thought would have been used to this sort of thing, skulked, half-hidden, at the back of the group. The photographer seemed keenest to get Fleur and I at the front, but Rita Skeeter kept hurrying forward and dragging Harry into greater prominence. Then she insisted on separate shots of all the champions. At last, we were free to go and I breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

Harry and I went down to dinner. Hermione wasn't there - I supposed she was still in the hospital wing having her teeth fixed. We ate alone at the end of the table, then returned to Gryffindor Tower, where I tried to help him with the Summoning Charms that he had to do. Then Ron came down and threw a letter at us.

"You've had an owl, and we've got to do our detentions tomorrow night, Snape's dungeon," said Ron brusquely before turning around and disappearing.

"Oh - right," said Harry, but Ron had already left.

Harry sat staring after Ron for so long that I grew impatient and yanked the letter out of his hands and unrolled it.

Harry and Katrina,  
I can't say everything I would like to in a letter, it's too risky in case the owl is intercepted - we need to talk face-to-face. Can you ensure that you are alone by the fire in Gryffindor Tower at one o'clock in the morning on the 22nd of November?

I know better than anyone that you two can look after yourselves and while you're around Dumbledore and Moody I don't think anyone will be able to hurt you. However, someone seems to be having a good try. Entering you in that tournament would have been very risky, especially right under Dumbledore's nose.

Be on the watch, you two. I still want to hear about anything unusual. Let me know about the 22nd of November as quickly as you can.  
Sirius

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In-line Comments

\- lol did anyone get the reference to David Tenant's portrayal of crouch with his tongue always stickin' out? (btw all hail doctor who!)  
\- Honestly it's true am i the only one to notice all the similarities between snape and malfoy? I think Malfoy is the snape of Harry's and Kat's generation  
\- Hope you liked my tiny little section of Moody POV lol couldn't think of too much to put in that particular case but promise I'll try to add more  
\- Hope you liked the camera man scene lol might have gotten a little carried away but I wanted to add more original content since I didnt get to as much in the last chapter


	77. The Hungarian Horntail & The King of Dragons

Katrina's POV

The prospect of talking face-to-face with Sirius was all that sustained Harry and I over the next fortnight, the only bright spot on a horizon that had never looked darker. The shock of finding ourselves school champions had worn off slightly now, and the fear of what was facing us had started to sink in.

The first task was drawing steadily nearer; I felt as though it were crouching ahead of me like some horrific monster, barring my path. I was finding it hard to think about the future at all; I felt as though my whole life had been heading up to, and would finish with, the first task...

Admittedly, I didn't see how Sirius was going to make me feel any better about having to perform an unknown piece of difficult and dangerous magic in front of hundreds of people, but the mere sight of my father's face would be something at the moment. Also, now that I think about it...performing random and unknown dangerous magic appeared to be a speciality of mine over the years...but I wasn't sure how that was supposed to help me if I didn't have any idea what I was up against! I couldn't expect to just stand there like an idiot and have something randomly come to me!

Harry and I wrote back to Sirius saying that we would be beside the common room fire at the time Sirius had suggested; and he, Hermione, and I spent a long time going over plans for forcing any stragglers out of the common room on the night in question. If the worst came to the worst, we were going to drop a bag of Dungbombs, but we hoped we wouldn't have to resort to that - Filch would skin us alive. Though I was sure I could blame it on the twins or Peeves if I really wanted to, but that wouldn't be nice.

In the meantime, life became even worse for Harry and I within the confines of the castle, for Rita Skeeter had published her piece about the Triwizard Tournament, and it had turned out to be not so much a report on the tournament as a highly colored life story of Harry and I. I was thankful she didn't know too much about me other than that I had a scar exactly like Harry and what that meant but still...now the whole wizarding world knew that Harry wasn't the only child who lived or whatever the name was.

Much of the front page had been given over to a picture of Harry and I; the article (continuing on pages two, six, and seven) had been all about Harry, and my scar, the names of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang champions (misspelled) had been squashed into the last line of the article, and Cedric hadn't been mentioned at all. When I realized this, I quickly dashed off to find him and apologize in case he was angry with me but he shrugged it off and said that it wasn't like it was my fault. I was so glad we were friends again!

The article had appeared ten days ago, and I still got a sick, burning feeling of shame in my stomach every time I thought about it. Not to mention poor Harry! Rita Skeeter had reported him saying an awful lot of things that I knew he hadn't ever said in his life.

"I suppose I get my strength from my parents. I know they'd be very proud of me if they could see me now....Yes, sometimes at night I still cry about them, I'm not ashamed to admit it....I know nothing will hurt me during the tournament, because they're watching over me..."

But Rita Skeeter had gone even further than transforming his "er's" into long, sickly sentences: She had interviewed other people about him too.

"Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevey, says that Harry is rarely seen out of the company of one Hermione Granger, a stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl, and of the lovely Katrina, who both, like Harry, are a few of the top students in the school. One can only wonder how this potential love triangle will end.

From the moment the article had appeared, Harry and I had had to endure people -Slytherins, mainly - quoting it at us as we passed and making sneering comments. Though with the exception of Pug-faced Parkinson, they were mainly directed at Harry and not me.

"Want a hanky, Potter, in case you start crying in Transfiguration?"

"Since when have you been one of the top students in the school, Potter? Or is this a school you and Longbottom have set up together?"

"Hey - Harry!"

"Yeah, that's right!" I heard Harry shout as he wheeled around in the corridor, having had just about enough. "I've just been crying my eyes out over my dead mum, and I'm just off to do a bit more..."

"No - it was just - you dropped your quill."

It was Cho. For some reason I felt my heart clench as I watched him blush and stammer embarrassedly at his crush.

"Oh - right - sorry," he muttered, taking the quill back.

"Er...good luck on Tuesday," she said. "I really hope you do well." What am I, chopped dragon meat?

Hermione had come in for her fair share of unpleasantness too, but she hadn't yet started yelling at innocent bystanders.

"Stunningly pretty? Her?" Pig-faced Parkinson had shrieked the first time she had come face-to-face with Hermione after Rita's article had appeared. "What was she judging against - a chipmunk? And lovely? There's nothing worth loving about you Katrina!"

"Ignore it," Hermione and I said in dignified voices, holding our heads in the air and stalking past the sniggering Slytherin girls as though we couldn't hear them. "Just ignore it, Harry." But a little part of me couldn't help but wonder if Pansy was right...

Ron wasn't helping matters. I had been hoping that they could start bonding again over their detention with Sev, but that had been the day the article came out.

Hermione was furious with the three of us - but mostly Harry and Ron since at this point I had decided to have nothing to do with the subject; she went from one to the other, trying to force them to talk to each other, but Harry was adamant: He would talk to Ron again only if Ron admitted that Harry hadn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire and apologized for calling him a liar.

"I didn't start this," Harry said stubbornly. "It's his problem."

"You miss him!" Hermione said impatiently. "And I know he misses you -"

"Miss him?" said Harry. "I don't miss him..."

But I Hermione and I knew this was a downright lie.

So to get his mind off of things we spent all of our time in the library trying to help Harry master summoning charms.

Viktor Krum was in the library an awful lot too, and I wondered what he was up to. Was he studying, or was he looking for things to help him through the first task? Hermione often complained about Krum being there - not that he ever bothered them - but because groups of giggling girls often turned up to spy on him from behind bookshelves, and Hermione found the noise distracting.

"He's not even good-looking!" she muttered angrily, glaring at Krum's sharp profile. "They only like him because he's famous! They wouldn't look twice at him if he couldn't do that Wonky-Faint thing -"

"Wronski Feint," said Harry, through gritted teeth. But I secretly thought Krum might have been spending so much time in the library because of Hermione. There were several times where I had caught him staring at her when she wasn't looking. I think someone was developing a crush on one of my best friends! Good! Maybe that would knock some sense into Ron! When would he stop being so stubborn headed and admit he liked her?!

********************************************

It is a strange thing, but when you are dreading something, and would give anything to slow down time, it has a disobliging habit of speeding up. The days until the first task seemed to slip by as though someone had fixed the clocks to work at double speed. My feeling of barely controlled panic was with me wherever I went, as everpresent as the snide comments about the Daily Prophet article.

I still had absolutely no clue what to do about the task and had just taken to studying and restudying as many spells as possible.

Mad-Eye Moody's POV

This is getting ridiculous, they are going to get themselves killed two seconds into the first task! I thought to myself as I continued to watch the days until the first task slip by without any sign of Harry or Katrina being at all prepared. For my master's plan to work, they both had to survive till the very end of the third task before anything "final" could even be considered an option.

I licked my lips as I tried to come up with a way to give the two of them a hint at what they were going to be facing.

Katrina's POV

On the Saturday before the first task, all students in the third year and above were permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade. Hermione told Harry and I that it would do us good to get away from the castle for a bit, and we didn't need much persuasion.

"What about Ron, though?" Harry said. "Don't you want to go with him?"

"Oh...well..."Hermione went slightly pink. "I thought we might meet up with him in the Three Broomsticks...."

"No," said Harry flatly.

"Oh Harry, this is so stupid -"

"I'll come, but I'm not meeting Ron, and I'm wearing my Invisibility Cloak."

"Can I hide under there with you?" I whispered to him. He nodded.

"Oh all right then..." Hermione snapped, "but I hate talking to you in that cloak, I never know if I'm looking at you or not."

So Harry and I put on his father's Invisibility Cloak in the dormitory, went back downstairs, and together we set off for Hogsmeade.

I felt wonderfully free under the cloak; I watched other students walking past us as they entered the village, most of them sporting Support Cedric Diggory! badges, but no horrible remarks came our way for a change, and nobody was quoting that stupid article.

"People keep looking at me now," said Hermione grumpily as we came out of Honeydukes Sweetshop later, eating large cream-filled chocolates. "They think I'm talking to myself."

"Don't move your lips so much then."

"Come on, please just take off the cloak for a bit, no one's going to bother you here."

"Oh yeah?" said Harry and I. "Look behind you."

Rita Skeeter and her photographer friend had just emerged from the Three Broomsticks pub. Talking in low voices, they passed right by Hermione without hooking at her. Harry backed us into the wall of Honeydukes to stop Rita Skeeter from hitting him with her crocodile-skin handbag. He wrapped a comforting hand around me as I shivered and stared at that blasted camera man.

"She's gone," said Hermione, looking right through Harry and I toward the end of the street. "Why don't we go and have a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks, it's a bit cold, isn't it? You don't have to talk to Ron!" she added irritably, correctly interpreting Harry's silence.

The Three Broomsticks was packed, mainly with Hogwarts students enjoying their free afternoon, but also with a variety of magical people Harry and I rarely saw anywhere else. Hogsmeade was the only all-wizard village in Britain, it was a bit of a haven for creatures like hags, who were not as adept as wizards at disguising themselves.

It was very hard to move through crowds in the Invisibility Cloak, in case you accidentally trod on someone, which tended to lead to awkward questions. Harry and I edged slowly toward a spare table in the corner while Hermione went to buy drinks. On our way through the pub, we spotted Ron, who was sitting with Fred, George, and Lee Jordan. I had to tug Harry away and we finally reached the table and sat down at it.

Hermione joined us a moment later and slipped us two butterbeers under the cloak.

"I look like such an idiot, sitting here on my own," she muttered. "Lucky I brought something to do."

And she pulled out a notebook in which she had been keeping a record of S.P.E.W. members. I saw all four of our names at the top of the very short list. It seemed a long time ago that we had sat making up those crazy predictions for Harry's and Ron's Divination class together, and Hermione had turned up and appointed them secretary and treasurer.

"You know, maybe I should try and get some of the villagers involved in S.P.E.W.," Hermione said thoughtfully, looking around the pub.

"Yeah, right," said Harry. He took a swig of butterbeer under his cloak. "Hermione, when are you going to give up on this spew stuff?"

"When house-elves have decent wages and working conditions!" she hissed back. "You know, I'm starting to think it's time for more direct action. I wonder how you get into the school kitchens?"

"No idea, ask Fred and George," said Harry. I knew how to get in, but with Hermione's obsession latelyI didn't think it would be a good idea to tell her quite just yet.

Hermione lapsed into thoughtful silence, while Harry and I drank our butterbeer, watching the people in the pub. All of them looked cheerful and relaxed.

"Look, it's Hagrid!" said Hermione.

The back of Hagrid's enormous shaggy head - he had mercifully abandoned his bunches - emerged over the crowd. I wondered why I hadn't spotted him at once, as Hagrid was so large, but standing up carefully, I saw that Hagrid had been leaning low, talking to Professor Moody.

Hagrid had his usual enormous tankard in front of him, but Moody was drinking from his hip flask. Moody had told us all during our last Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson that he preferred to prepare his own food and drink at all times, as it was so easy for Dark wizards to poison an unattended cup.

As I watched, I saw Hagrid and Moody get up to leave. Harry and I waved, before remembering that Hagrid couldn't see us. Moody, however, paused, his magical eye on the corner where we were standing. He tapped Hagrid in the small of the back (being unable to reach his shoulder), muttered something to him, and then the pair of them made their way back across the pub toward our table.

"All right, Hermione?" said Hagrid loudly.

"Hello," said Hermione, smiling back.

Moody limped around the table and bent down; I thought he was reading the S.P.E.W. notebook, until he muttered, "Nice cloak, Potter, Katrina."

Harry and I stared at him in amazement. The large chunk missing from Moody's nose was particularly obvious at a few inches' distance. Moody grinned.

"Can your eye - I mean, can you -?"

"Yeah, it can see through Invisibility Cloaks," Moody said quietly. "And it's come in useful at times, I can tell you."

Hagrid was beaming down at us too. I knew Hagrid couldn't see us, but Moody had obviously told Hagrid we were there. Hagrid now bent down on the pretext of reading the S.P.E.W. notebook as well, and said in a whisper so low that only Harry and I could hear it, "Meet me tonight at midnight at me cabin. Wear that cloak."

Straightening up, Hagrid said loudly, "Nice ter see yeh, Hermione," winked, and departed. Moody followed him.

"Why does Hagrid want us to meet him at midnight?" Harry said, very surprised. I shrugged my shoulders. Who knew what went on in the mind of that half-giant!

"Does he?" said Hermione, looking startled. "I wonder what he's up to? I don't know whether you should go..." She looked nervously around and hissed, "It might make you late for Sirius."

It was true that going down to Hagrid's at midnight would mean cutting our  meeting with Sirius very fine indeed; Hermione suggested sending Hedwig down to Hagrid's to tell him he couldn't go - always assuming she would consent to take the note, of course - she was still miffed at Harry, however, I thought it better just to be quick at whatever Hagrid wanted us for. I was very curious to know what this might be; Hagrid had never asked us to visit him so late at night.

At half past eleven that evening, Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak back over ourselves and we crept back downstairs through the common room. We slinked past the people still sitting at the tables to the portrait hole and waited for a minute or so, keeping an eye on Harry's watch. Then Hermione opened the Fat Lady for us from outside as we had planned. We slipped past her with a whispered "Thanks!" and set off through the castle.

We walked carefully down to Hagrid's hut and knocked.

"You there, Harry, Katrina?" Hagrid whispered, opening the door and looking around.

"Yeah," we said, slipping inside the cabin and pulling the cloak down off our heads. "What's up?"

"Got summat ter show yeh," said Hagrid.

There was an air of enormous excitement about Hagrid. He was wearing a flower that resembled an oversized artichoke in his buttonhole. It looked as though he had abandoned the use of axle grease, but he had certainly attempted to comb his hair - I could see the comb's broken teeth tangled in it.

"What're you showing us?" I said warily, wondering if the skrewts had laid eggs, or Hagrid had managed to buy another giant three-headed dog off a stranger in a pub.

"Come with me, keep quiet, an' keep yourselves covered with that cloak," said Hagrid. "We won' take Fang, he won' like it..."

"Listen, Hagrid, we can't stay long....we've got to be back up at the castle by one o'clock -"

But Hagrid wasn't listening; he was opening the cabin door and striding off into the night. Harry and I hurried to follow and found, to our great surprise, that Hagrid was leading us to the Beauxbatons carriage.

"Hagrid, what -?"

"Shhh!" said Hagrid, and he knocked three times on the door bearing the crossed golden wands.

Madame Maxime opened it. She was wearing a silk shawl wrapped around her massive shoulders. She smiled when she saw Hagrid.

"Ah, 'Agrid...it is time?"

"Bong-sewer," said Hagrid, beaming at her, and holding out a hand to help her down the golden steps. I had to clamp my hand around my mouth so as not to burst out laughing at Hagrid's attempt at French! c'était horrible!

Madame Maxime closed the door behind her, Hagrid offered her his arm, and they set off around the edge of the paddock containing Madame Maxime's giant winged horses, with Harry and I, totally bewildered, running to keep up with them. Had Hagrid wanted to show us Madame Maxime? We could see her any old time we wanted...she wasn't exactly hard to miss....

But it seemed that Madame Maxime was in for the same treat as Harry and I, because after a while she said playfully, "Wair is it you are taking me, 'Agrid?"

"Yeh'll enjoy this," said Hagrid gruffly, "worth seein', trust me. On'y - don' go tellin' anyone I showed yeh, right? Yeh're not s'posed ter know." I rolled my eye, what was with Hagrid and revealing information that people were not supposed to know!

"Of course not," said Madame Maxime, fluttering her long black eyelashes.

And still we walked, Harry and I getting more and more irritated as we jogged along in their wake, checking our watches every now and then. Hagrid had some harebrained scheme in hand, which might make us miss Sirius. If we didn't get there soon, we were going to turn around, go straight back to the castle, and leave Hagrid to enjoy his moonlit stroll with Madame Maxime....

But then - when we had walked so far around the perimeter of the forest that the castle and the lake were out of sight - I heard something. Men were shouting up ahead...then came a deafening, earsplitting roar...my blood froze as I recognized that roar. Drake was not nearly capable of getting that loud yet but I would recognize a dragon roar anywhere at this point. I tugged nervously on Harry's robes but he wasn't paying attention.

Hagrid led Madame Maxime around a clump of trees and came to a halt. We hurried up alongside them - and then we saw them.

Dragons.

Five fully grown, enormous, vicious-looking dragons were rearing onto their hind legs inside an enclosure fenced with thick planks of wood, roaring and snorting - torrents of fire were shooting into the dark sky from their open, fanged mouths, fifty feet above the ground on their outstretched necks. There was a silvery-blue one with long, pointed horns, snapping and snarling at the wizards on the ground; a smooth-scaled green one, which was writhing and stamping with all its might; a red one with an odd fringe of fine gold spikes around its face, which was shooting mushroom-shaped fire clouds into the air; a gigantic black one, more lizard-hike than the others, which was nearest to them; and the biggest of them all, a tremendous golden dragon that towered over the others and looked even fiercer and stronger than all of them combined. I squinted at something that glinted on his head, and realized that he was wearing a crown! My eyes widened in shock. That must be the legendary King of Dragons that Drake was always telling me about! He ruled over all dragon's and could bend any dragon to his will. He was also the only dragon in the clearing who wasn't making a big fuss. He just sat there and silently watched his brethren in silent contemplation. Then, as if he could feel my eyes on him, he glanced over to the bush where Harry and I were hiding and I found myself mesmerized by his golden eyes. It was as if he was staring into my soul. I bowed my head as a sign of respect.

"You are the girl taking care of the young dragon known as Drake, are you not?" said a booming voice in my head. I nodded, too afraid to speak. The King of Dragons tilted his head as he looked at me inquisitively before turning away and curling up. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. 

"Keep back there, Hagrid!" yelled a wizard near the fence, straining on the chain he was holding. "They can shoot fire at a range of twenty feet, you know! I've seen this Horntail do forty!"

"Is'n' it beautiful?" said Hagrid softly, I had to agree with him. I only wished Drake was with me to see it.

"It's no good!" yelled another wizard. "Stunning Spells, on the count of three!"

I saw each of the dragon keepers pull out his wand.

"Do something!" I screamed at the King of Dragons, not wanting the dragons to get hurt. He looked at me and with an almost lazy flick of his tail, the rest of the dragons slumped down as domicile as ever.

The dragon keepers lowered their wands and walked forward to their fallen charges, each of which was the size of a small hill. They hurried to tighten the chains and fasten them securely to iron pegs, which they forced deep into the ground with their wands.

"Wan' a closer look?" Hagrid asked Madame Maxime excitedly. The pair of them moved right up to the fence, and Harry and I followed. The wizard who had warned Hagrid not to come any closer turned, and I realized who it was: Charlie Weasley.

"All right, Hagrid?" he panted, coming over to talk. "They should be okay now - we put them out with a Sleeping Draft on the way here, thought it might be better for them to wake up in the dark and the quiet - but, like you saw, they weren't happy, not happy at all - it's just a good thing we have the King along with us to keep them under control when it get's out of hand. He made and agreement with Dumbledore I think -"

"What breeds you got here, Charlie?" said Hagrid, gazing at the closest dragon, the black one, with something chose to reverence. Its eyes were still just open. I could see a strip of gleaming yellow beneath its wrinkled black eyelid.

"This is a Hungarian Horntail," said Charlie. "There's a Common Welsh Green over there, the smaller one - a Swedish Short-Snout, that blue-gray - and a Chinese Fireball, that's the red."

Charlie looked around; Madame Maxime was strolling away around the edge of the enclosure, gazing at the stunned dragons.

"I didn't know you were bringing her, Hagrid," Charlie said, frowning. "The champions aren't supposed to know what's coming - she's bound to tell her student, isn't she?"

"Jus' thought she'd like ter see 'em," shrugged Hagrid, still gazing, enraptured, at the dragons.

"Really romantic date, Hagrid," said Charlie, shaking his head. I couldn't help but giggle silently.

"Five..." said Hagrid, "so it's one fer each o' the champions, is it? What've they gotta do - fight 'em?"

"Just get past them, I think," said Charlie. "We'll be on hand if it gets nasty, Extinguishing Spells at the ready. They wanted nesting mothers, I don't know why...but I tell you this, I don't envy the one who gets the Horntail or the King of Dragons. Vicious things. The Horntail's back end's as dangerous as its front, and the King of Dragons is...well...the King - enough said."

Charlie pointed toward the Horntail's tail, and I saw long, bronze-colored spikes protruding along it every few inches.

Five of Charlie's fellow keepers staggered up to the Horntail at that moment, carrying a clutch of huge granite-gray eggs between them in a blanket. They placed them carefully at the Horntail's side. Hagrid let out a moan of longing.

"I've got them counted, Hagrid," said Charlie sternly. Then he said, "How's Harry and Katrina?"

"Fine," said Hagrid. He was still gazing at the eggs.

"Just hope they're still fine after they've faced this lot," said Charlie grimly, looking out over the dragons' enclosure. "I didn't dare tell Mum what they've got to do for the first task; she's already having kittens about them..." Charlie imitated his mother's anxious voice. "'How could they let them enter that tournament, they're much too young! I thought they were all safe, I thought there was going to be an age limit!' She was in floods after that Daily Prophet article about them. 'He still cries about his parents! Oh bless him, I never knew!'"

Harry and I had had enough. Trusting to the fact that Hagrid wouldn't miss us, with the attractions of five dragons and Madame Maxime to occupy him, we turned silently and began to walk away, back to the castle.

I didn't know whether I was glad I'd seen what was coming or not. Perhaps this way was better. The first shock was over now. Maybe if we'd seen the dragons for the first time on Tuesday, we would have passed out cold in front of the whole school...but maybe I would anyway....I was going to be armed with my wand - which, just now, felt like nothing more than a narrow strip of wood - highly flammable would; against a fifty-foot-high, scaly, spike-ridden, fire-breathing dragon. And I had to get past it. With everyone watching. How? I loved Drake, but he wasn't fifty foot tall and going to be trying to kill me!

Harry and I sped up, skirting the edge of the forest; we had just under fifteen minutes to get back to the fireside and talk to father, and I couldn't remember, ever, wanting to talk to someone more than I did right now - when, without warning, we ran into something very solid.

Harry and I fell backward, clutching the cloak around us. A voice nearby said, "Ouch! Who's there?"

We hastily checked that the cloak was covering us and lay very still, staring up at the dark outline of the wizard we had hit. I recognized the goatee...it was Karkaroff.

"Who's there?" said Karkaroff again, very suspiciously, looking around in the darkness. Harry and I remained still and silent. After a minute or so, Karkaroff seemed to decide that he had hit some sort of animal; he was looking around at waist height, as though expecting to see a dog. Then he crept back under the cover of the trees and started to edge forward toward the place where the dragons were.

Very slowly and very carefully, Harry and I got to our feet and set off again as fast as we could without making too much noise, hurrying through the darkness back toward Hogwarts.

I had no doubt whatsoever what Karkaroff was up to. He had sneaked off his ship to try and find out what the first task was going to be. He might even have spotted Hagrid and Madame Maxime heading off around the forest together - they were hardly difficult to spot at a distance...and now all Karkaroff had to do was follow the sound of voices, and he, like Madame Maxime, would know what was in store for the champions.

By the looks of it, the only champion who would be facing the unknown on Tuesday was Cedric.

We reached the castle, slipped in through the front doors, and began to climb the marble stairs; I was very out of breath, but didn't dare slow down....We had less than five minutes to get up to the fire....

"Balderdash!" we gasped at the Fat Lady, who was snoozing in her frame in front of the portrait hole.

"If you say so," she muttered sleepily, without opening her eyes, and the picture swung forward to admit us. We climbed inside. The common room was deserted, and, judging by the fact that it smelled quite normal, Hermione had not needed to set off any Dungbombs to ensure that we got privacy.

We pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and threw ourselves into the armchairs in front of the fire. The room was in semidarkness; the flames were the only source of light. Nearby, on a table, the Support Cedric Diggory! badges the Creeveys had been trying to improve were glinting in the firelight. They now read POTTER REALLY STINKS. I looked back into the flames, and jumped.

Father's head was sitting in the fire. If I hadn't seen Mr. Diggory do exactly this back in the Weasleys' kitchen, it would have scared me out of my wits. Instead, my face breaking into the first smile I had worn for days, I scrambled out of my chair, crouched down by the hearth, and said, "Daddy - how're you doing?!"

Sirius looked different from my memory of him. When we had said good-bye, father's face had been gaunt and sunken, surrounded by a quantity of long, black, matted hair - but the hair was short and clean now, Sirius's face was fuller, and he looked younger, much more like the only photograph I had of him, which had been taken when I was little and being chased by him around the room with my mom in the background.

"Never mind me, how are you?" said Sirius seriously. Or should I say - siriusly - hehe I have to stop being so punny. Nahh it's too much fun.

"I'm -" For a second, I tried to say "fine" - but I couldn't do it. Before Harry or I could stop ourselves, we were talking more than we'd talked in days - about how no one believed we hadn't entered the tournament of our own free will, how Rita Skeeter had lied about Harry in the Daily Prophet, how she had revealed my scar to the whole world, how we couldn't walk down a corridor without being sneered at - and about Ron, Ron not believing us, Ron's jealousy...

"...and now Hagrid's just shown us what's coming in the first task, and it's dragons, Sirius, and we're goners," we finished desperately.

My father looked at us, eyes full of concern, eyes that had not yet lost the look that Azkaban had given them - that deadened, haunted look. He had let Harry and I talk ourselves into silence without interruption, but now he said, "Dragons we can deal with, but we'll get to that in a minute - I haven't got long here...I've broken into a wizarding house to use the fire, but they could be back at any time. There are things I need to warn you about."

"What?" I said, feeling my spirits slip a further few notches...Surely there could be nothing worse than dragons coming?

"Karkaroff," said Sirius. "He was a Death Eater. You know what Death Eaters are, don't you?"

"Yes - he - what?"

"He was caught, he was in Azkaban with me, but he got released. I'd bet everything that's why Dumbledore wanted an Auror at Hogwarts this year - to keep an eye on him. Moody caught Karkaroff. Put him into Azkaban in the first place."

"Karkaroff got released?" I said slowly - my brain seemed to be struggling to absorb yet another piece of shocking information. "Why did they release him?"

"He did a deal with the Ministry of Magic," said father bitterly. "He said he'd seen the error of his ways, and then he named names...he put a load of other people into Azkaban in his place....He's not very popular in there, I can tell you. And since he got out, from what I can tell, he's been teaching the Dark Arts to every student who passes through that school of his. So watch out for the Durmstrang champion as well."

"Okay," I said slowly. "But...are you saying Karkaroff put our names in the goblet? Because if he did, he's a really good actor. He seemed furious about it. He wanted to stop us from competing."

"We know he's a good actor," said Sirius, "because he convinced the Ministry of Magic to set him free, didn't he? Now, I've been keeping an eye on the Daily Prophet -"

"- you and the rest of the world," said Harry and I bitterly.

"- and reading between the lines of that Skeeter woman's article last month, Moody was attacked the night before he started at Hogwarts. Yes, I know she says it was another false alarm," Sirius said hastily, seeing Harry about to speak, "but I don't think so, somehow. I think someone tried to stop him from getting to Hogwarts. I think someone knew their job would be a lot more difficult with him around. And no one's going to look into it too closely; Mad-Eye's heard intruders a bit too often. But that doesn't mean he can't still spot the real thing. Moody was the best Auror the Ministry ever had."

"So...what are you saying?" said Harry slowly. "Karkaroff's trying to kill us? But - why?"

Father hesitated.

"I've been hearing some very strange things," he said slowly. "The Death Eaters seem to be a bit more active than usual lately. They showed themselves at the Quidditch World Cup, didn't they? Someone set off the Dark Mark...and then - did you hear about that Ministry of Magic witch who's gone missing?"

"Bertha Jorkins?" I said nodding.

"Exactly...she disappeared in Albania, and that's definitely where Voldemort was rumored to be last...and she would have known the Triwizard Tournament was coming up, wouldn't she?"

"Yeah, but...it's not very likely she'd have walked straight into Voldemort, is it?" said Harry.

"Listen, I knew Bertha Jorkins," said father grimly. "She was at Hogwarts when I was, a few years above your dad and me. And she was an idiot. Very nosy, but no brains, none at all. It's not a good combination. I'd say she'd be very easy to lure into a trap."

"So...so Voldemort could have found out about the tournament?" I said. "Is that what you mean? You think Karkaroff might be here on his orders?"

"I don't know," said father slowly, "I just don't know...Karkaroff doesn't strike me as the type who'd go back to Voldemort unless he knew Voldemort was powerful enough to protect him. But whoever put your name in that goblet did it for a reason, and I can't help thinking the tournament would be a very good way to attack you two and make it look like an accident."

"Looks like a really good plan from where we're standing," said Harry grinning bleaky. "They'll just have to stand back and let the dragons do their stuff."

"Right - these dragons," said Sirius, speaking very quickly now. "There's a way. Don't be tempted to try a Stunning Spell - dragons are strong and too powerfully magical to be knocked out by a single Stunner, you need about half a dozen wizards at a time to overcome a dragon -"

"Yeah, I know, we just saw," said Harry.

"But you can do it alone," said Sirius. "There is away, and a simple spell's all you need. Just -"

But I held up a hand to silence him, my heart suddenly pounding as though it would burst. I could hear footsteps coming down the spiral staircase behind us.

"Go!" I hissed at Sirius. " Go! There's someone coming! I love you daddy!"

Harry and I scrambled to our feet, hiding the fire - if someone saw Sirius's face within the walls of Hogwarts, they would raise an almighty uproar - the Ministry would get dragged in - and we would be questioned about Sirius's whereabouts -

I heard a tiny pop! in the fire behind me and knew father had gone. I watched the bottom of the spiral staircase. Who had decided to go for a stroll at one o'clock in the morning, and stopped father from telling us how to get past a dragon?

It was Ron. Dressed in his maroon paisley pajamas, Ron stopped dead facing Harry and I across the room, and looked around.

"Who were you talking to?" he said.

"Each other, what's that got to do with you?" Harry snarled. "What are you doing down here at this time of night?"

"I just wondered where you -" Ron broke off, shrugging. "Nothing. I'm going back to bed."

"Just thought you'd come nosing around, did you?" Harry shouted.

"Sorry about that," said Ron, his face reddening with anger. "Should've realized you two didn't want to be disturbed. I'll let you get on with practicing for your next interviews in peace."

Harry seized one of the POTTER REALLY STINKS badges off the table and chucked it, as hard as he could, across the room. It hit Ron on the forehead and bounced off. I laughed.

"There you go," Harry said. "Something for you to wear on Tuesday. You might even have a scar now, if you're lucky....That's what you want, isn't it?"

"All righty then - on that awkward note, I think I'm just gonna go to bed," I said to Harry giving him a brief hug and heading out of the common room. Just like my Grandfather, I didn't need a cloak to become unseen if I didn't want and besides I knew enough secret shortcuts that I rarely ever ran into any teacher, students, or ghosts.

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In-line Comments

\- to hear comment about the race approaching like a monster blocking her path - how ironic and full of foreshadowing can you get? lol  
\- lol buttonhole sounds so much like something else - but thats just my dirty mind...  
\- let me know what you think f the addition of a King of Dragons!p


	78. The First Task

Katrina's POV

I got up on Sunday morning and dressed so inattentively that it was a while before I realized I was trying to pull my hat onto my foot instead of my sock. One of the few benefits to having my own room, nobody saw that! When I finally got all my clothes on the right parts of of my body, I hurried off to find Hermione, locating her at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, where she was eating breakfast with Ginny. Feeling too queasy to eat, I waited until Hermione had swallowed her last spoonful of porridge, then dragged her out onto the grounds with Harry. There, we told her all about the dragons, and about everything father had said, while we took another long walk around the lake.

Alarmed as she was by Sirius's warnings about Karkaroff, Hermione still thought that the dragons were the more pressing problem.

"Let's just try and keep you two alive until Tuesday evening," she said desperately, "and then we can worry about Karkaroff."

We walked three times around the lake, trying all the way to think of a simple spell that would subdue a dragon. Nothing whatsoever occurred to any of us, so we retired to the library instead. Here, Hermione and I pulled down every book we could find on dragons, and all three of us set to work searching through the large pile.

"Talon-clipping by charms...treating scale-rot...' This is no good, this is for nutters like Hagrid who want to keep them healthy..."

"Hey! I'm not a nutter!" I exclaimed as I looked up at this comment.

"Whoops sorry Kat, you know what I meant," Harry grumbled. I rolled my eyes, boys...

"Dragons are extremely difficult to slay, owing to the ancient magic that imbues their thick hides, which none but the most powerful spells can penetrate...' But Sirius said a simple one would do it..."

"Let's try some simple spell-books, then," said Harry, throwing aside "Men Who Love Dragons Too Much." How sexist - how about females who like dragons? I thought to myself.

Harry returned to the table with a pile of spellbooks, set them down, and began to flick through each in turn, Hermione whispering nonstop at his elbow.

"Well, there are Switching Spells...but what's the point of Switching it? Unless you swapped its fangs for wine-gums or something that would make it less dangerous....The trouble is, like that book said, not much is going to get through a dragon's hide....I'd say Transfigure it, but something that big, you really haven't got a hope, I doubt even Professor McGonagall...unless you're supposed to put the spell on yourself? Maybe to give yourself extra powers? But they're not simple spells, I mean, we haven't done any of those in class, I only know about them because Kat and I've been doing O.W.L. practice papers...."

"Hermione," Harry said, through gritted teeth, "will you shut up for a bit, please? I m trying to concentrate." I almost told him off for sounding a bit rude, but in the end decided to keep reading.

I stared hopelessly down the index of Basic Hexes for the Busy and Vexed. Instant scalping...but dragons had no hair...pepper breath...that would probably increase a dragon's firepower...horn tongue...just what we needed, to give it an extra weapon...

"Oh no, he's back again, why can't he read on his stupid ship?" said Hermione irritably as Viktor Krum slouched in, cast a surly look over at the three of us, and settled himself in a distant corner with a pile of books. I giggled, she could be so clueless sometimes. "Come on, you two, we'll go back to the common room...his fan club'll be here in a moment, twittering away...."

And sure enough, as we left the library, a gang of girls tiptoed past us, one of them wearing a Bulgaria scarf tied around her waist.

********************************************

I barely slept that night. When I awoke on Monday morning, I seriously considered for the first time ever just running away from Hogwarts. But as I looked around the Great Hall at breakfast time, and thought about what leaving the castle would mean, I knew I couldn't do it. It was the only place I had ever been happy...well, I supposed I must have been happy when I was a baby with my parents too, but I couldn't remember that.

Somehow, the knowledge that I would rather be here and facing a dragon than back at the Orphanage or with Draco's family was good to know; it made me feel slightly calmer. I finished my bacon with difficulty (my throat wasn't working too well), and as Hermione, Harry, and I got up, I saw Cedric Diggory leaving the Hufflepuff table.

Cedric still didn't know about the dragons...the only champion who didn't, if I was right in thinking that Maxime and Karkaroff would have told Fleur and Krum...

I nudged Harry and pointed to Cedric. It wasn't right for him to be the only one who didn't know! That, and I didn't want him to die!

"Hermione, we'll see you in the greenhouses," Harry and I said, as we watched Cedric leaving the Hall. "Go on, we'll catch you up."

"You'll be late, the bell's about to ring -"

"We'll catch you up, okay?"

By the time we reached the bottom of the marble staircase, Cedric was at the top. He was with a load of sixth-year friends. I didn't want to talk to Cedric in front of them; they were among those who had been quoting Rita Skeeter's article at Harry every time he went near them. We followed Cedric at a distance and saw that he was heading toward the Charms corridor. This gave me an idea. Pausing at a distance from them, I twirled my hand behind my back and cast a silent spell.

"Diffindo!"

Cedric's bag split. Parchment, quills, and books spilled out of it onto the floor. Several bottles of ink smashed.

"Don't bother," said Cedric in an exasperated voice as his friends bent down to help him. "Tell Flitwick I'm coming, go on..."

This was exactly what I had been hoping for. We waited until Cedric's friends had disappeared into their classroom, and hurried up the corridor, which was now empty of everyone but Harry, Cedric, and myself.

"Hi," said Cedric, picking up a copy of A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration that was now splattered with ink. "My bag just split...brand-new and all..."

"Cedric," I said, "the first task is dragons."

"What?" said Cedric, looking up.

"Dragons," Harry repeated for me, speaking quickly, in case Professor Flitwick came out to see where Cedric had got to. "They've got five, one for each of us, and we've got to get past them."

Cedric stared at us. I saw some of the panic I'd been feeling since Saturday night flickering in Cedric's gray eyes.

"Are you sure?" Cedric said in a hushed voice.

"Dead sure," said Harry and I. "We've seen them."

"But how did you find out? We're not supposed to know...."

"Never mind," said Harry quickly - we knew Hagrid would be in trouble if we told the truth. "But we're not the only ones who know. Fleur and Krum will know by now - Maxime and Karkaroff both saw the dragons too."

Cedric straightened up, his arms full of inky quills, parchment, and books, his ripped bag dangling off one shoulder. He stared at us, and there was a puzzled, almost suspicious look in his eyes.

"Why are you telling me?" he asked.

I looked at him in disbelief. I was sure Cedric wouldn't have asked that if he had seen the dragons himself. I wouldn't have let my worst enemy face those monsters unprepared - well, perhaps the girls from the Orphanage or Mrs. Tenpleton who ran the place...

"You're my friend! and it's just...fair, isn't it?" I said to Cedric. "We all know now...we're on an even footing, aren't we?"

Cedric was still looking at us in a slightly suspicious way when I heard a familiar clunking noise behind me. I turned around and saw Mad-Eye Moody emerging from a nearby classroom.

"Come with me, Potter, Katrina," he growled. "Diggory, off you go."

I stared apprehensively at Moody. Had he overheard us?

"Er - Professor, we are supposed to be in Herbology -"

"Never mind that. In my office, please..."

Harry and I followed him, wondering what was going to happen to us now. What if Moody wanted to know how we'd found out about the dragons? Would Moody go to Grandfather and tell on Hagrid, or just turn Harry and I into a ferrets? I mean technically I could turn myself into one. Well, it might be easier to get past a dragon if I were a ferret, I thought dully, I'd be smaller, much less easy to see from a height of fifty feet...hey that's an idea...I could transform! But the idea was quickly squashed when I realized the biggest creature I'd been able to transform into was a wolf. A dragon would use a wolf as a toothpick!

We followed Moody into his office. Moody closed the door behind us and turned to look at Harry and I, his magical eye fixed upon us as well as the normal one.

"That was a very decent thing you just did, Potter, Katrina," Moody said quietly.

I didn't know what to say; this wasn't the reaction I had expected at all.

"Sit down," said Moody, and we sat, looking around.

I had visited this office under two of its previous occupants. In Professor Lockhart's day, the walls had been plastered with beaming, winking pictures of the narcissistic Professor himself. When Lupin had lived here, you were more likely to come across a specimen of some fascinating new Dark creature he had procured for us to study in class. Now, however, the office was full of a number of exceptionally odd objects that I supposed Moody had used in the days when he had been an Auror.

On his desk stood what looked like a large, cracked, glass spinning top; I recognized it at once as a Sneakoscope, because Ron had given Harry one, though it was much smaller than Moody's. In the corner on a small table stood an object that looked something like an extra-squiggly, golden television aerial. It was humming slightly. What appeared to be a mirror hung opposite me on the wall, but it was not reflecting the room. Shadowy figures were moving around inside it, none of them clearly in focus.

"Like my Dark Detectors, do you?" said Moody, who was watching Harry and I closely.

"What's that?" Harry asked, pointing at the squiggly golden aerial.

"Secrecy Sensor. Vibrates when it detects concealment and lies...no use here, of course, too much interference - students in every direction lying about why they haven't done their homework. Been humming ever since I got here. I had to disable my Sneakoscope because it wouldn't stop whistling. It's extra-sensitive, picks up stuff about a mile around. Of course, it could be picking up more than kid stuff," he added in a growl.

"And what's the mirror for?"

"Oh that's my Foe-Glass. See them out there, skulking around? I'm not really in trouble until I see the whites of their eyes. That's when I open my trunk."

He let out a short, harsh laugh, and pointed to the large trunk under the window. It had seven keyholes in a row. I wondered what was in there, until Moody's next question brought me sharply back to earth.

"So...found out about the dragons, have you?"

I hesitated. I'd been afraid of this - but we hadn't told Cedric, and we certainly weren't going to tell Moody, that Hagrid had broken the rules.

"It's all right," said Moody, sitting down and stretching out his wooden leg with a groan. "Cheating's a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and always has been."

"We didn't cheat," I said sharply. "It was - a sort of accident that we found out."

Moody grinned. "I wasn't accusing you. I've been telling Dumbledore from the start, he can be as high-minded as he likes, but you can bet old Karkaroff and Maxime won't be. They'll have told their champions everything they can. They want to win. They want to beat Dumbledore. They'd like to prove he's only human."

Moody gave another harsh laugh, and his magical eye swiveled around so fast it made me feel queasy to watch it.

"So...got any ideas how you're going to get past your dragons yet?" said Moody.

"No," said Harry and I.

"Well, I'm not going to tell you," said Moody gruffly. "I don't show favoritism, me. I'm just going to give you some good, general advice. And the first bit is - play to your strengths."

"I haven't got any," said Harry and I, before we could stop ourselves.

"Excuse me," growled Moody, "you've got strengths if I say you've got them. Think now. What are you best at?"

I tried to concentrate. What was I best at? Well, that was easy, really -

"Quidditch," we said dully at the same time, "and a fat lot of help -"

"That's right," said Moody, staring at us very hard, his magical eye barely moving at all. "You're damn good fliers from what I've heard."

"Yeah, but..." Harry stared at him. "We're not allowed a broom, We've only got my wand..."

"Yeah, and I'm definitely not as good at flying as Harry, plus won't it be cheating if we do the same thing!" I added.

"My second piece of general advice," said Moody loudly, interrupting me, "is to use a nice, simple spell that will enable you to get what you need. And Katrina, don't you know a creature who might know a thing or two about dragons himself?"

I looked at him blankly. Who did I know?

"Come on..." whispered Moody. "Put them together...it's not that difficult..."

And it clicked. Drake! How could I have forgotten about him! He must know some way I could survive plus there was no rule against me bringing him along! And it was obvious what Harry needed...

"Hermione," Harry whispered, when he had sped into greenhouse three minutes later, uttering a hurried apology to Professor Sprout as he passed her. "Hermione - I need you and Kat to help me."

"What d'you think we've been trying to do, Harry?" she whispered back, her eyes round with anxiety over the top of the quivering Flutterby Bush she was pruning.

"Hermione, I need to learn how to do a Summoning Charm properly by tomorrow afternoon."

And so while Harry and Hermione practiced the summoning spell, I went down to Hagrid's hut and trained with Drake. Hagrid let me use the rejected pumpkins from his pumpkin patch as target practice for Drake and we spent the whole afternoon working on his aim and working to fight together. practiced.

We kept practicing until past midnight. We would have continued longer, but I could tell Drake was finally starting to tire out and I wanted him to be well rested so I went back to my room and went over as many spells as I could think of along with practicing my fire magic; I had a feeling it was going to come in handy, until 2 o'clock in the morning. I yawned and finally went to bed, hoping that Harry had managed to master the summoning charm.

********************************************

I had been focusing so hard on training with Drake that evening that some of my blind panic had left me. It returned in full measure, however, on the following morning. The atmosphere in the school was one of great tension and excitement. Lessons were to stop at midday, giving all the students time to get down to the dragons' enclosure - though of course, they didn't yet know what they would find there.

I felt oddly separate from everyone around me, whether they were wishing me good luck or hissing "We'll have a stretcher waiting for you" as I passed. It was a state of nervousness so advanced that I wondered whether I mightn't just lose my head when they tried to lead me out to my dragon, and start trying to curse everyone in sight.

Time was behaving in a more peculiar fashion than ever, rushing past in great dollops, so that one moment I seemed to be sitting down in my first lesson, History of Magic, and the next, walking into lunch...and then (where had the morning gone? the last of the dragon-free hours?), Professor McGonagall was hurrying over to me in the Great Hall. Lots of people were watching.

"Potter, Katrina the champions have to come down onto the grounds now....You have to get ready for your first task."

"Okay," I said, standing up, my fork falling onto my plate with a clatter.

"Good luck, Harry, good luck Katrina!" Hermione whispered. "You'll be fine!"

"Yeah," I said in a voice that was most unlike my own.

We left the Great Hall with Minnie. She didn't seem herself either; in fact, she looked nearly as anxious as Hermione. As she walked us down the stone steps and out into the cold November afternoon, she put her hand on our shoulders.

"Now, don't panic," she said, "just keep a cool head....We've got wizards standing by to control the situation if it gets out of hand....The main thing is just to do your best, and nobody will think any the worse of you....Are you all right?"

"Yes," Harry and I said. heard himself say. "Yes, we're fine."

She was leading us toward the place where the dragons were, around the edge of the forest, but when we approached the clump of trees behind which the enclosure would be clearly visible, I saw that a tent had been erected, its entrance facing us, screening the dragons from view.

"You're to go in here with the other champions," said Professor McGonagall, in a rather shaky sort of voice, "and wait for your turn. Mr. Bagman is in there...he'll be telling you the - the procedure...Good luck."

"Thanks," I said, in a flat, distant voice. She left us at the entrance of the tent with one final worried glance at me. Harry and I went inside.

Fleur Delacour was sitting in a corner on a low wooden stool. She didn't look nearly as composed as usual, but rather pale and clammy. Viktor Krum looked even surlier than usual, which I supposed was his way of showing nerves. Cedric was pacing up and down. When Harry and I entered, Cedric gave us a small smile, which I returned, feeling the muscles in my face working rather hard, as though they had forgotten how to do it.

"Harry! Katrina! Good-o!" said Bagman happily, looking around at him. "Come in, come in, make yourselves at home!"

Bagman looked somehow like a slightly overblown cartoon figure, standing amid all the pale-faced champions. He was wearing his old Wasp robes again.

"Well, now we're all here - time to fill you in!" said Bagman brightly. "When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag" - he held up a small sack of purple silk and shook it at them - "from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different - er - varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too...ah, yes...your task is to collect the golden egg!"

I glanced around. Cedric had nodded once, to show that he understood Bagman's words, and then started pacing around the tent again; he looked slightly green. Fleur Delacour and Krum hadn't reacted at all. Perhaps they thought they might be sick if they opened their mouths; that was certainly how I felt. But they, at least, had volunteered for this...

And in no time at all, hundreds upon hundreds of pairs of feet could be heard passing the tent, their owners talking excitedly, laughing, joking...I felt as separate from the crowd as though they were a different species. And then - it seemed like about a second later to me - Bagman was opening the neck of the purple silk sack.

"Ladies first," he said, offering it to Fleur Delacour.

She put a shaking hand inside the bag and drew out a tiny, perfect model of a dragon - a Welsh Green. It had the number two around its neck and I knew, by the fact that Fleur showed no sign of surprise, but rather a determined resignation, that he had been right: Madame Maxime had told her what was coming.

Then he handed it to me...I glanced at Harry terrified as I reached my hand in and pulled out - a mini version of the King of Dragons with a number 5 on the back. I felt faint and woozy as I met Harry's horrified face. As Ron would say, bloody hell! I was so going to be dragon's dinner!

"Drake! we got stuck with the King of Dragons! I'm so dead!" I said in my head to my companion. He was staying out of sight until I gave the signal.

"Really? Hmm, this should be interesting. Don't worry Kat, we'll do fine!" my dragon said soothingly. There was a hint of something in his voice that I couldn't label. If I had to guess, I would say amusement, but I couldn't think of one reason Drake could have to be feeling amused right now!

Krum pulled out the scarlet Chinese Fireball and from the lack of surprise on his face, I could tell he also had been told what to expect. It had a number three around its neck. He didn't even blink, just sat back down and stared at the ground.

Cedric put his hand into the bag, and out came the blueish-gray Swedish Short-Snout, the number one tied around its neck. Knowing what was left, I watched in horror as Harry put his hand into the silk bag and pulled out the Hungarian Horntail, and the number four. It stretched its wings as he looked down at it, and bared its minuscule fangs.

"Well, there you are!" said Bagman. "You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see? Now, I'm going to have to leave you in a moment, because I'm commentating. Mr. Diggory, you're first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right? Now...Harry...Katrina...could I have a quick word? Outside?"

"Er...yes," I said blankly, and we got up and went out of the tent with Bagman, who walked us a short distance away, into the trees, and then turned to us with a fatherly expression on his face.

"Feeling all right, Harry? Katrina? Anything I can get you?"

"What?" said Harry. "I - no, nothing."I nodded my agreement.

"Got a plan?" said Bagman, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Because I don't mind sharing a few pointers, if you'd like them, you know. I mean," Bagman continued, lowering his voice still further, "you're the underdogs here...Anything I can do to help..."

"No," said Harry and I so quickly I knew we had sounded rude, "no - we - we - know what we're going to do, thanks."

"Nobody would know," said Bagman, winking at us.

"No, we're fine," I said, wondering why I kept telling people this, and wondering whether I had ever been less fine. "We've got our plans worked out, I -"

A whistle had blown somewhere.

"Good lord, I've got to run!" said Bagman in alarm, and he hurried off.

Harry walked back to the tent and saw Cedric emerging from it, greener than ever. I tried to wish him luck as he walked past, but all that came out of his mouth was a sort of hoarse grunt.

Harry and I went back inside to Fleur and Krum. Seconds hater, I heard the roar of the crowd, which meant Cedric had entered the enclosure and was now face-to-face with the living counterpart of his model....

It was worse than I could ever have imagined, sitting there and listening. The crowd screamed...yelled...gasped like a single many-headed entity, as Cedric did whatever he was doing to get past the Swedish Short-Snout. Krum was still staring at the ground. Fleur had now taken to retracing Cedric's steps, around and around the tent. And Bagman's commentary made everything much, much worse....Horrible pictures formed in my mind as I heard: "Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow"... "He's taking risks, this one!"..."Clever move - pity it didn't work!"

And then, after about fifteen minutes, I heard the deafening roar that could mean only one thing: Cedric had gotten past his dragon and captured the golden egg.

"Very good indeed!" Bagman was shouting. "And now the marks from the judges!"

But he didn't shout out the marks; I supposed the judges were holding them up and showing them to the crowd.

"One down, four to go!" Bagman yelled as the whistle blew again. "Miss Delacour, if you please!"

Fleur was trembling from head to foot; I felt more warmly toward her than I had done so far as she left the tent with her head held high and her hand clutching her wand. Harry, Krum and I were left alone, at opposite sides of the tent, avoiding each other's gaze.

The same process started again...."Oh I'm not sure that was wise!" they could hear Bagman shouting gleefully. "Oh...nearly! Careful now...good lord, I thought she'd had it then!"

Ten minutes later, I heard the crowd erupt into applause once more...Fleur must have been successful too. A pause, while Fleur's marks were being shown...more clapping...then, for the third time, the whistle.

"And here comes Mr. Krum!" cried Bagman, and Krum slouched out, leaving Harry and I quite alone.

I felt much more aware of my body than usual; very aware of the way my heart was pumping fast, and my fingers tingling with fear...yet at the same time, I seemed to be outside myself, seeing the walls of the tent, and hearing the crowd, as though from far away.

"Very daring!" Bagman was yelling, and I heard the Chinese Fireball emit a horrible, roaring shriek, while the crowd drew its collective breath. "That's some nerve he's showing - and - yes, he's got the egg!"

Applause shattered the wintery air like breaking glass; Krum had finished - it would be Harry's turn any moment. I ran over and hugged him tightly.

"Please, please, PLEASE, dont't die out there, Harry! Otherwise I'll bring you back to life and kill you myself!" I said shakily. He smiled grimly at me and left the tent and I sat back down and waited with baited breath, my hands twisting in my robes.

I did my best to block out the sounds as Harry started fighting the Hungarian Horntail as I rocked back in forth on my seat and waited as the seconds ticked on by. Then a roar from the crowd shook me out of my stupor, Harry must have gotten his egg. Thank Merlin! The whistle blew again. Lizard scales, it was my turn now!

I walked out through the entrance of the tent, the panic rising into a crescendo inside me. And now I was walking past the trees, through a gap in the enclosure fence.

I saw everything in front of me as though it was a very highly colored dream. There were hundreds and hundreds of faces staring down at me from stands that had been magicked there since I'd last stood on this spot. And there was the the King of Dragons, at the other end of the enclosure, crouched low over a clutch of eggs, his wings half-furled, his yellow eyes upon me, his golden tail, sweeping back and forth across the hard ground. The crowd was making a great deal of noise, but whether friendly or not, I didn't know or care. It was time to do what I had to do...

I took a step forward.

The King of Dragons lazily looked at me and the next thing I knew, a stream of flames was coming directly at me. I quickly raised my hands up and directed the flame to split up on either side of me and around me and then redirected it towards the golden dragon. He didn't even blink an eye as he huffed and snuffed out the flame instantly.

I whistled sharply and as loudly as I could for Drake and heard him zooming towards the clearing. There were shouts of surprise from everyone since I had done a good job at keeping his existence quiet.

Instead of flying to me like I expected Drake to do, he flew straight up to the King of Dragons.

"Drake! No! What are you doing!" I cried out anxiously. He couldn't take him on all by himself!

The King of Dragon's lurched to his feet and stood at his tallest. It was extremely daunting to look at this gigantic and proud creature and I felt very small in comparison, and not just due to his tremendous size.

"There you are, little one, how have you been? Learning a lot about the world I hope?"

I stood blinking in confusion as I heard the King of Dragon speak to Drake like a long lost friend. What was going on? I looked towards my dragon but he was clearly preoccupied with flying in happy circles around and around and around the older Dragon's head. Despite the very real and dangerous situation I was in, I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Then again, if his tactic was to make the dragon so dizzy he fell down and couldn't get up then I was all for it!

"Of course I have, Father. I've learned so much, and my Rider is so nice and sweet and amazing you have to meet her!"

Hold up, wait just a minute...did Drake just call that ginormous dragon his father?!

"Calm down, child! All in good time, my son, all in good time. Now stop behaving like a hatchling. You are a proud dragon, not a mosquito!" The dragon boomed out loud in a deep and commanding voice. That I knew everyone could hear.

"Katrina, daughter of Eliana Dumbledore, come closer so that I may greet you properly and thank you for taking such good care of my kindred." I hesitantly put one foot in front of the other until I was standing directly in front of the massive golden dragon.

"Um, h-hello, your majesty? Dragoness? N-nice to m-meet you" I said shakily as I curtsied clumsily. How was one supposed to greet the King of Dragons?

There was a loud grumbling sound that shook the earth and it took me a second to realize that it was the dragon laughing. He bowed in turn and then suddenly bent down and stuck his head out right in my face.

I jumped back and went tumbling head over heels and this time both dragons were laughing at me. I felt Drake swoop down and clamp his claws on the shoulders of my robes and drag me to my feet. The ungrateful little terror then shoved me forwards towards the gigantic golden dragon head.

"It's okaaayy Kat, he doesn't bite! Well he does...but he doesn't want to bite YOU!" Drake said merrily. I glared at him but slowly reach a hand up and patted the golden snout in front of me. I guess this wasn't so bad...at least I wasn't barbecue yet!

"So-so you are Drake's father?"

"Yes, he is one of my many many sons and daughter out there. All dragons are considered one large family, but he is one of the few that has my blood running in his veins, yes." The dragon boomed.

I looked at Drake in surprise.

"Why didn't you TELL me?!"

"You never asked," my soon to be mince meat of a pet said grinning his sharp teeth at me cheekily. I just stood there soaking this shocking news in until I realized that I was still participating in a tournament and had an objective to complete.

"Um Mr. Dragon, Sir, your majesty, um, I was wondering if - um...you don't suppose, would it be alright, can I, would it be alright if I go ahead and take that golden egg? I need it to finish the task..." I tried to get the request out intelligently but words were failing me at the moment.

"It's not supposed to be an easy task, young one. I would ask that you do something for me first."

"Yes! Of course, anything!"

"It has been many a year since I have spread my wings and flown, and even longer still since a dragon rider has been born. Though you are destined to ride Drake here, if you would do me the honor of releasing my chains and riding with me one time I will gladly give you the golden egg."

I blinked. A dragon rider? Me?! I had read about them while studying for the task but they had died out a long time ago. It was said that they would ride on the backs of dragons and protect the land and people and that their bond with their dragon was like nothing ever heard of...but it was in a folktale book that I had read this...I didn't think there was any truth to it! But here was the proof being spoken to me out of the mouth of the King of Dragons himself so it must be true and did I really have anything to complain about? All I had to do was go fly a huge dragon - no big deal - right? I mean I guess it was better then having to fight one like the others had - but no less terrifying!

"I - I guess so...just go easy on me! I can fly a broom, but never flown on the back of a dragon before!"

"Well you should get used to it young one. I foresee many a flight with Drake in the future along with many dark deeds but you will get through it all in the end. you will need the practice and my son here is not quite big enough yet to fly. It will be easiest for you if you climb up my tail, just try to be gentle."

Still not believing this was happening, I slowly made my way over to his large tail and began to climb up it. After a while I finally managed to make it to the top of the tail and started to gingerly walk up it towards the body of the dragon. After another ten minutes or so I managed to make it to the middle of his neck and grasp on tightly to one of the spikes.

"You ready?" The King of Dragons asked, sensing my fear. I nodded numbly as I pointed my wand at the chains.

"Relashio"

The next thing I knew I was clinging for dear life as the golden dragon shot faster than a rocket up up up and away. The wind rushed past me and I did my best not to get torn off the dragon. When I looked down, the people in the crowd were tinier then specks of dirt. The dragon leveled off and began to lazily flap his wings as he soared smoothly in circles above the arena. As he slowed down I managed to really open my eyes and focus on the fact that I, Katrina, was actually riding a freaking dragon - and not just any dragon, but the King! Oh, my, Merlin! It was absolutely amazing and I never wanted it to end but I also didn't want to get disqualified from the tournament for taking too long! So I kindly asked the dragon if he could take me down.

We landed with a loud thud that rattled the stands and shook the earth to the core - and as promised, the King of Dragons reached down and plucked the golden egg from the batch of real eggs and dropped it carefully into my hands. I curtsied deeply in thanks as Drake rushed over again to greet his father while I finally remembered there was an audience as sound returned to my ears.

It was as though somebody had just turned the volume back up - for the first time, I became properly aware of the noise of the crowd, which was screaming and applauding as loudly as the Irish supporters at the World Cup -

"Look at that!" Bagman was yelling. "Will you look at that! One of our youngest champions riding on the back of the King of Dragons! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Ms. Katrina!"

I saw the dragon keepers rushing forward to subdue the golden dragon once more - not that I thought he needed or deserved to be chained up but I guess it most have been a part of the safety precautions, and, over at the entrance to the enclosure, Professor McGonagall, Professor Moody, and Hagrid were hurrying to meet me all of them waving me toward them, their smiles evident even from this distance.

I ran with Drake flying above my shoulder over to them, the noise of the crowd pounding my heart lighter than it had been in weeks....I had got through the first task, I had survived...

"That was excellent, Katrina!" cried Minnie when I reached her. I noticed that her hand shook as she pointed at my shoulder. "You'll need to see Madam Pomfrey before the judges give out your score...Over there, she's had to mop up Diggory already..." I glanced down at my shoulder and realized that some of the fire from earlier must have slipped past my power and my shoulder had angry burn on it. How had I not felt that?

"Yeh did it, Katrina!" said Hagrid hoarsely. "Yeh did it! An' agains' the King an' all, an' yeh know Charlie said that was the wors' -"

"Thanks, Hagrid," I said loudly, so that Hagrid wouldn't blunder on and reveal that he had shown Harry and I the dragons beforehand. Also - I kinda felt like I hadn't done much, as amazing as flying had been, it wasn't like I had gotten an angry and aggressive mother dragon like all the other champions - I really hoped the wouldn't resent me!

Professor Moody looked very pleased too; his magical eye was dancing in its socket.

"Nice and easy does the trick, Katrina," he growled.

"Right then, Katrina, the first aid tent, please..." said Minnie.

I walked out of the enclosure, still panting, and saw Madam Pomfrey standing at the mouth of a second tent, looking worried.

"Dragons!" she said, in a disgusted tone, pulling me inside. The tent was divided into cubicles; I could make out Cedric's shadow through the canvas, but Cedric didn't seem to be badly injured; he was sitting up, at least. Madam Pomfrey examined my shoulder, talking furiously all the while. "Last year dementors, this year dragons, what are they going to bring into this school next? You're very lucky...this is quite shallow...it'll need cleaning before I heal it up, though..."

She cleaned the burn with a dab of some purple liquid that smoked and stung, but then poked my shoulder with her wand, and I felt it heal instantly.

"Now, just sit quietly for a minute - sit! And then you can go and get your score."

She bustled out of the tent and I heard her go next door and say, "How does it feel now, Diggory?"

I didn't want to sit still. I was too full of adrenaline. I got to my feet, wanting to see what was going on outside, but before I'd reached the mouth of the tent, three people had come darting inside - Hermione and Harry followed closely by Ron.

"Katrina, you were brilliant!" Hermione said squeakily as Harry rushed over and hugged me tightly. There were fingernail marks on her face where she had been clutching it in fear. "You were amazing! You really were!"

But I was looking from Ron to Harry and back again.

"You two finally make up then?"

"Yeah," said Ron, with a chagrined look on his face. ", c'mon, they'll be putting up your scores..."

Picking up the golden egg, whistling for Drake to follow, and feeling more elated than I would have believed possible an hour ago, I ducked out of the tent, Harry and Ron by my side, talking fast.

"You and Harry were the best, you know, no competition. Cedric did this weird thing where he Transfigured a rock on the ground...turned it into a dog...he was trying to make the dragon go for the dog instead of him. Well, it was a pretty cool bit of Transfiguration, and it sort of worked, because he did get the egg, but he got burned as well - the dragon changed its mind halfway through and decided it would rather have him than the Labrador; he only just got away. And that Fleur girl tried this sort of charm, I think she was trying to put it into a trance - well, that kind of worked too, it went all sleepy, but then it snored, and this great jet of flame shot out, and her skirt caught fire - she put it out with a bit of water out of her wand. And Krum - you won't believe this, but he didn't even think of flying! He was probably the best after you, though. Hit it with some sort of spell right in the eye. Only thing is, it went trampling around in agony and squashed half the real eggs - they took marks off for that, he wasn't supposed to do any damage to them."

Ron drew breath as he, Harry, and I reached the edge of the enclosure. Now that the King of Dragons had been taken away, I could see where the five judges were sitting - right at the other end, in raised seats draped in gold.

"It's marks out of ten from each one," Harry explained, and I squinting up the field, saw the first judge - Madame Maxime - raise her wand in the air. What looked like a long silver ribbon shot out of it, which twisted itself into a large figure eight.

"Not bad!" said Ron as the crowd applauded. "I suppose she took marks off for your shoulder..."

Mr. Crouch came next. He shot a number nine into the air.

"Looking good!" Ron and Harry yelled, thumping me on the back.

Next, Grandfather. He too put up a nine. The crowd was cheering harder than ever.

Ludo Bagman - ten.

"Ten?" I said in disbelief. "But...I barely did anything it wasn't even a real fight...What's he playing at?"

"Katrina, don't complain!" Ron yelled excitedly.

And now Karkaroff raised his wand. He paused for a moment, and then a number shot out of his wand too - four.

"What?" Ron bellowed furiously. "Four? You lousy, biased scum-bag, you gave Krum ten!"

But I didn't care, I wouldn't have cared if Karkaroff had given me zero; Ron's indignation on my behalf was worth about a hundred points to me. This was one of the first times he had really ever acted on my behalf before and I hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. He blushed a brilliant shade of red and I giggled along with Hermione.

I didn't tell Ron this, of course, but my heart felt lighter than air as I turned to leave the enclosure. And it wasn't just Ron...those weren't only Gryffindors cheering in the crowd. When it had come to it, when they had seen what we were facing, most of the school had been on mine and Harry's side as well as Cedric's...He didn't care about the Slytherins, I could stand whatever they threw at me now.

"You're tied in first place, Katrina! You, Harry, and Krum!" said Charlie Weasley, hurrying to meet us as we set off back toward the school. "Listen, I've got to run, I've got to go and send Mum an owl, I swore I'd tell her what happened - but that was unbelievable! Oh yeah - and they told me to tell you you've got to hang around for a few more minutes...Bagman wants a word, back in the champions' tent."

Ron and Hermione said they would wait, so Harry and I reentered the tent, which somehow looked quite different now: friendly and welcoming. I thought back to how I'd felt while flying on the back of a dragon, and compared it to the long wait before I'd walked out to face it...There was no comparison; the wait had been immeasurably worse.

Fleur, Cedric, and Krum all came in together. One side of Cedric's face was covered in a thick orange paste, which was presumably mending his burn. He grinned at me when he saw me and I dashed over and hugged him, glad he was safe.

"Good one, Princess."

"And you," said I, grinning back.

"Well done, all of you!" said Ludo Bagman, bouncing into the tent and looking as pleased as though he personally had just got past a dragon. "Now, just a quick few words. You've got a nice long break before the second task, which will take place at half past nine on the morning of February the twenty-fourth - but we're giving you something to think about in the meantime! If you look down at those golden eggs you're all holding, you will see that they open...see the hinges there? You need to solve the clue inside the egg - because it will tell you what the second task is, and enable you to prepare for it! All clear? Sure? Well, off you go, then!"

Harry and I left the tent, rejoined Ron and Hermione, and started to walk back around the edge of the forest, talking hard; Harry and I wanted to hear what the other champions had done in more detail. Then, as we rounded the clump of trees behind which I had first heard the dragons roar, a witch leapt out from behind us.

It was Rita Skeeter. She was wearing acid-green robes today; the Quick-Quotes Quill in her hand blended perfectly against them.

"Congratulations, Harry and Katrina!" she said, beaming at us. "I wonder if you could give me a quick word? How you felt facing that dragons? What was it like to be the first one to ride a dragon in a century or more? How do you feel now, about the fairness of the scoring?"

"Yeah, you can have a word," I said savagely. "Good-bye."

And we set off back to the castle. On the way up, I spoke to Drake.

"So...your father is the King of Dragons..."

"Yup!"

"Does that make you a Prince of Dragons or whatever?"

"I guess...yeah!" Drake thought about it and ruffled his scales as he stood taller on my shoulder and looked out proudly. I rolled my eyes at him.

"Whatever, don't expect me to bow down to you or address you any differently now!" I said, laughing at his slightly offended expression and scratching the scales under his snout.

********************************************

In-Line Comments

\- yeah thats NOT why the secrecy sensor keeps going off u imposter!  
\- If Voldemort and Grindelwald couldn't beat Dumbledore I doubt either of them will  
\- hope you liked the whole surprise with the king of dragons and that it wasn't too Eragonish but I wanted her to eventually be riding drake and i couldnt think of a better way to introduce the idea while making sure she still had to do something to pass the task - sorry if you were hoping for a battle scene!   
\- did anyone catch the superhero reference hehe lol im so bad though i still havent actually even seen superman or caught up on a lot of the other movies, but I have been watching supergirl and started watching the flash so im getting there slowly - baby steps  
\- let me know your thoughts as always on this chapter good or bad - hope it didnt seem cliche or anything!


	79. The House-elf Liberation Front

Katrina's POV

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I went up to the Owlery that evening to find Pigwidgeon, so that Harry and I could send father a letter telling him that we had managed to get past our dragons unscathed. On the way, Harry filled Ron in on everything Sirius had told us about Karkaroff. Though shocked at first to hear that Karkaroff had been a Death Eater, by the time we entered the Owlery Ron was saying that we ought to have suspected it all along.

"Fits, doesn't it?" he said. "Remember what Malfoy said on the train, about his dad being friends with Karkaroff? Now we know where they knew each other. They were probably running around in masks together at the World Cup...I'll tell you one thing, though, if it was Karkaroff who put your name in the goblet, he's going to be feeling really stupid now, isn't he? Didn't work, did it? You both only got a scratch! Come here - I'll do it -"

Pigwidgeon was so overexcited at the idea of a delivery he was flying around and around our heads, hooting incessantly. Ron snatched Pigwidgeon out of the air and held him still while Harry attached the letter to his leg.

"There's no way any of the other tasks are going to be that dangerous, how could they be?" Ron went on as he carried Pigwidgeon to the window. "You know what? I reckon you guys could win this tournament, I'm serious."

I knew that Ron was only saying this to make up for his behavior of the last few weeks, but I appreciated it all the same. Hermione, however, leaned against the Owlery wall, folded her arms, and frowned at Ron.

"Harry and Katrina have got a long way to go before they finish this tournament," she said seriously. "If that was the first task, I hate to think what's coming next."

"Right little ray of sunshine, aren't you?" said Ron. "You and Professor Trelawney should get together sometime." I couldn't help but laugh. I felt lighter than I had for weeks.

Ron threw Pigwidgeon out of the window. Pigwidgeon plummeted twelve feet before managing to pull himself back up again; the letter attached to his leg was much longer and heavier than usual - Harry and I hadn't been able to resist giving Sirius blow-by-blow accounts of exactly how he had swerved, circled, and dodged the Horntail and how I had ridden the King of Dragons. We watched Pigwidgeon disappear into the darkness, and then Ron said, "Well, we'd better get downstairs for your surprise party - Fred and George should have nicked enough food from the kitchens by now."

Sure enough, when we entered the Gryffindor common room it exploded with cheers and yells again. There were mountains of cakes and flagons of pumpkin juice and butterbeer on every surface; Lee Jordan had let off some Filibuster's Fireworks, so that the air was thick with stars and sparks; and Dean Thomas, who was very good at drawing, had put up some impressive new banners, most of which depicted Harry zooming around the Horntail's head on his Firebolt, and me flying on the back of a big golden dragon, though a couple showed Cedric with his head on fire.

We helped ourselves to food; I had almost forgotten what it was like to feel properly hungry, and sat down with Harry, Ron and Hermione. I couldn't believe how happy I felt; we had Ron back on our side, Harry and I had gotten through the first task, and we wouldn't have to face the second one for three months.

"Blimey, these are heavy," said Lee Jordan, picking up the golden eggs, which Harry and I had left on a table, and weighing them in his hands. "Open it, Harry, Katrina, go on! Let's just see what's inside it!"

"They're supposed to work out the clue on their own," Hermione said swiftly. "It's in the tournament rules...."

"We were supposed to work out how to get past the dragon on our own too," Harry muttered, so only Hermione and I could hear him, and she grinned rather guiltily.

"Yeah, go on, open it!" several people echoed.

Lee passed Harry and I the eggs, and I dug my fingernails into the groove that ran all the way around it and prised it open.

It was hollow and completely empty - but the moment Harry and I opened them the most horrible noise, a loud and screechy wailing, filled the room. The nearest thing to it I had ever heard was the ghost orchestra at Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party, who had all been playing the musical saw.

"Shut them!" Fred bellowed, his hands over his ears.

"What was that?" said Seamus Finnigan, staring at the eggs as Harry and I slammed them shut again. "Sounded like a banshee...Maybe you've got to get past one of those next!"

"It was someone being tortured!" said Neville, who had gone very white and spilled sausage rolls all over the floor. "You're going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!"

"Don't be a prat, Neville, that's illegal," said George. "They wouldn't use the Cruciatus Curse on the champions. I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing...maybe you've got to attack him while he's in the shower." I laughed at that.

"Want a jam tart, Hermione?" said Fred.

Hermione looked doubtfully at the plate he was offering her. Fred grinned.

"It's all right," he said. "I haven't done anything to them. It's the custard creams you've got to watch -"

Neville, who had just bitten into a custard cream, choked and spat it out. Fred laughed.

"Just my little joke, Neville...."

Hermione took a jam tart. Then she said, "Did you get all this from the kitchens, Fred?"

"Yep," said Fred, grinning at her. He put on a high-pitched squeak and imitated a house-elf. "'anything we can get you, sir, anything at all!' They're dead helpful...get me a roast ox if I said I was peckish."

"How do you get in there?" Hermione said in an innocently casual sort of voice. Uh-oh, I thought to myself.

"Easy," said Fred, "concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pear, and it giggles and -" He stopped and looked suspiciously at her. "Why?"

"Nothing," said Hermione quickly.

"Going to try and lead the house-elves out on strike now, are you?" said George. "Going to give up all the leaflet stuff and try and stir them up into rebellion?"

Several people chortled. Hermione didn't answer.

"Don't you go upsetting them and telling them they've got to take clothes and salaries!" said Fred warningly. "You'll put them off their cooking!"

Just then, Neville caused a slight diversion by turning into a large canary.

"Oh - sorry, Neville!" Fred shouted over all the laughter. "I forgot - it was the custard creams we hexed -"

Within a minute, however, Neville had molted, and once his feathers had fallen off, he reappeared looking entirely normal. He even joined in laughing.

"Canary Creams!" Fred shouted to the excitable crowd. "George and I invented them - seven Sickles each, a bargain!"

It was nearly one in the morning when I finally managed to break away and head back to my room. Before I slipped into bed, I placed a pillow on my bedside table for Drake to sleep on (Grandfather had finally agreed to let him stay with me now that everyone knew about him) and then set the tiny model of Drake's father on the table next to his bed, where it yawned, curled up, and closed its eyes; just as Drake did.

********************************************

The start of December brought wind and sleet to Hogwarts. Drafty though the castle always was in winter. I was glad of its fires and thick walls every time I passed the Durmstrang ship on the lake, which was pitching in the high winds, its black sails billowing against the dark skies. I thought the Beauxbatons caravan was likely to be pretty chilly too.

Hagrid, I noticed, was keeping Madame Maxime's horses well provided with their preferred drink of single-malt whiskey; the fumes wafting from the trough in the corner of their paddock was enough to make the entire Care of Magical Creatures class light-headed. This was unhelpful, as we were still tending the horrible skrewts and needed our wits about us.

"I'm not sure whether they hibernate or not," Hagrid told the shivering class in the windy pumpkin patch next lesson. "Thought we'd jus' try an see if they fancied a kip...we'll jus' settle 'em down in these boxes...."

There were now only ten skrewts left; apparently their desire to kill one another had not been exercised out of them. Each of them was now approaching six feet in length. Their thick gray armor; their powerful, scuttling legs; their fire-blasting ends; their stings and their suckers, combined to make the skrewts the most repulsive things I had ever seen. The class looked dispiritedly at the enormous boxes Hagrid had brought out, all lined with pillows and fluffy blankets.

"We'll jus' lead 'em in here," Hagrid said, "an' put the lids on, and we'll see what happens."

But the skrewts, it transpired, did not hibernate, and did not appreciate being forced into pillow-lined boxes and nailed in. Hagrid was soon yelling, "Don panic, now, don' panic!" while the skrewts rampaged around the pumpkin patch, now strewn with the smoldering wreckage of the boxes. Most of the class - Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle in the lead - had fled into Hagrid's cabin through the back door and barricaded themselves in; Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I, however, were among those who remained outside trying to help Hagrid. Together we managed to restrain and tie up nine of the skrewts, though at the cost of numerous burns and cuts; finally, only one skrewt was left.

"Don' frighten him, now!" Hagrid shouted as Ron and Harry used their wands to shoot jets of fiery sparks at the skrewt, which was advancing menacingly on them, its sting arched, quivering, over its back. "Jus' try an slip the rope 'round his sting, so he won hurt any o' the others!"

"Yeah, we wouldn't want that!" Ron shouted angrily as he and Harry backed into the wall of Hagrid's cabin, still holding the skrewt off with their sparks.

"Well, well, well...this does look like fun."

Rita Skeeter was leaning on Hagrid's garden fence, looking in at the mayhem. She was wearing a thick magenta cloak with a furry purple collar today, and her crocodile-skin handbag was over her arm.

Hagrid launched himself forward on top of the skrewt that was cornering Harry and Ron and flattened it; a blast of fire shot out of its end, withering the pumpkin plants nearby.

"Who're you?" Hagrid asked Rita Skeeter as he slipped a loop of rope around the skrewt's sting and tightened it.

"Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter," Rita replied, beaming at him. Her gold teeth glinted.

"Thought Dumbledore said you weren' allowed inside the school anymore," said Hagrid, frowning slightly as he got off the slightly squashed skrewt and started tugging it over to its fellows.

Rita acted as though she hadn't heard what Hagrid had said.

"What are these fascinating creatures called?" she asked, beaming still more widely.

"Blast-Ended Skrewts," grunted Hagrid.

"Really?" said Rita, apparently full of lively interest. "I've never heard of them before...where do they come from?"

I noticed a dull red flush rising up out of Hagrid's wild black beard, and his heart sank. Where had Hagrid got the skrewts from? Hermione, who seemed to be thinking along these lines, said quickly, "They're very interesting, aren't they? Aren't they. Harry?"

"What? Oh yeah...ouch...interesting," said Harry as she stepped on his foot.

"Ah, you're here. Harry! Oh, and Katrina?" said Rita Skeeter as she looked around and spotted us. "So you like Care of Magical Creatures, do you? One of your favorite lessons?"

"Yes," said Harry and I stoutly. Hagrid beamed at us.

"Lovely," said Rita. "Really lovely. Been teaching long?" she added to Hagrid.

Harry noticed her eyes travel over Dean (who had a nasty cut across one cheek). Lavender (whose robes were badly singed), Seamus (who was nursing several burnt fingers), and then to the cabin windows, where most of the class stood, their noses pressed against the glass waiting to see if the coast was clear.

"This is o'ny me second year," said Hagrid.

"Lovely...I don't suppose you'd like to give an interview, would you? Share some of your experience of magical creatures? The Prophet does a zoological column every Wednesday, as I'm sure you know. We could feature these - er - Bang-Ended Scoots."

"Blast-Ended Skrewts," Hagrid said eagerly. "Er - yeah, why not?"

I had a very bad feeling about this, but there was no way of communicating it to Hagrid without Rita Skeeter seeing, so I had to stand and watch in silence as Hagrid and Rita Skeeter made arrangements to meet in the Three Broomsticks for a good long interview later that week. Then the bell rang up at the castle, signaling the end of the lesson.

"Well, good-bye, Harry! Good-bye, Katrina!" Rita Skeeter called merrily to us as we set off with Ron and Hermione. "Until Friday night, then, Hagrid!"

"She'll twist everything he says," Harry said under his breath.

"Just as long as he didn't import those skrewts illegally or anything," said Hermione desperately. We looked at one another - it was exactly the sort of thing Hagrid might do.

"Hagrid's been in loads of trouble before, and Dumbledore has never sacked him," said Ron consolingly. "Worst that can happen is Hagrid'll have to get rid of the skrewts. Sorry...did I say worst? I meant best."

Harry, Hermione, and I laughed, and, feeling slightly more cheerful, went off to lunch.

********************************************

"It'd be a bit more impressive if she hadn't done it about eighty times before," Harry was saying when I caught up to them after their double-Divinations class. "But if Katrina and I'd dropped dead every time she's told us we're going to, we'd be a medical miracle."

"You'd be sort of extra-concentrated ghosts," said Ron, chortling, as we passed the Bloody Baron going in the opposite direction, his wide eyes staring sinisterly. "At least we didn't get homework. I hope you and Hermione got loads off Professor Vector, Katrina, I love not working when you are..." I rolled my eyes at this.

But Hermione wasn't at dinner, nor was she in the library when we went to look for her afterward. The only person in there was Viktor Krum. Ron hovered behind the bookshelves for a while, watching Krum, debating in whispers with Harry whether he should ask for an autograph - but then Ron realized that six or seven girls were lurking in the next row of books, debating exactly the same thing, and he lost his enthusiasm for the idea. I rolled my eyes again.

"Wonder where she's got to?" Ron said as we went back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Dunno...balderdash."

But the Fat Lady had barely begun to swing forward when the sound of racing feet behind us announced Hermione's arrival.

"Harry! Katrina!" she panted, skidding to a halt beside us (the Fat Lady stared down at her, eyebrows raised). " - you've got to come - you've got to come, the most amazing thing's happened - please -"

She seized our arms and started to try to drag us back along the corridor.

"What's the matter?" Harry said.

"I'll show you when we get there - oh come on, quick -"

Harry and I looked around at Ron; he looked back at us, intrigued.

"Okay," we said, starting off back down the corridor with Hermione, Ron hurrying to keep up.

"Oh don't mind me!" the Fat Lady called irritably after us. "Don't apologize for bothering me! I'll just hang here, wide open, until you get back, shall I?"

"Yeah, thanks!" Ron shouted over his shoulder.

"Sorry to have bothered you unnecessarily!" I hollered over my shoulder.

"Hermione, where are we going?" Harry asked, after she had led us down through six floors, and started down the marble staircase into the entrance hall.

"You'll see, you'll see in a minute!" said Hermione excitedly. I had a suspicious feeling I knew what this was about.

She turned left at the bottom of the staircase and hurried toward the door through which Cedric Diggory had gone the night after the Goblet of Fire had regurgitated our names. As we followed her I knew my suspicions were right. We followed Hermione down a flight of stone steps, but instead of ending up in a gloomy underground passage like the one that led to Snape's dungeon, we found ourselves in the familiar broad stone corridor, brightly lit with torches, and decorated with cheerful paintings that were mainly of food that I knew lead to the kitchens.

"Oh hang on..." said Harry slowly, halfway down the corridor. "Wait a minute, Hermione...."

"What?" She turned around to look at him, anticipation all over her face.

"I know what this is about," said Harry.

He nudged Ron and pointed to the painting just behind Hermione. It showed a gigantic silver fruit bowl.

"Hermione!" said Ron, cottoning on. "You're trying to rope us into that spew stuff again!"

"No, no, I'm not!" she said hastily. "And it's not spew, Ron -"

"Changed the name, have you?" said Ron, frowning at her. "What are we now, then, the House-Elf Liberation Front? I'm not barging into that kitchen and trying to make them stop work, I'm not doing it -"

"I'm not asking you to!" Hermione said impatiently. "I came down here just now, to talk to them all, and I found - oh come on, I want to show you!"

She seized our arms again, pulled us in front of the picture of the giant fruit bowl, stretched out her forefinger, and tickled the huge green pear. It began to squirm, chuckling, and suddenly turned into a large green door handle. Hermione seized it, pulled the door open, and pushed us hard in the back, forcing us inside. I was guessing she had figured out that Winky was here.

I had one brief glimpse of an enormous, high-ceilinged room, large as the Great Hall above it, with mounds of glittering brass pots and pans heaped around the stone walls, and a great brick fireplace at the other end, when something small hurtled toward him from the middle of the room, squealing, "Harry Potter, sir! Miss Katrina!"

Next second all the wind had been knocked out of me as the squealing elf hit me hard in the midriff, hugging me so tightly I thought my ribs would break.

"Hello, Dobby!" I grinned.

""D-Dobby?" Harry gasped in surprise.

"It is Dobby, sir, it is!" squealed Dobby as he hugged Harry next. "Dobby has been hoping and hoping to see Harry Potter, sir, and Harry Potter has come to see him, sir!" I of course, came down to see him and Winky whenever I could get around to if - which unfortunately hadn't been as often as I had hoped what with the tournament and all.

Dobby let go and stepped back a few paces, beaming up at Harry and I, his enormous, green, tennis-ball-shaped eyes brimming with tears of happiness.

He was wearing the strangest assortment of garments I had ever seen; he had done an even worse job of dressing himself than the wizards at the World Cup. He was wearing a tea cozy for a hat, on which he had pinned a number of bright badges; a tie patterned with horseshoes over a bare chest, a pair of what looked like children's soccer shorts, and odd socks. One of these, I saw, was the black one Harry had removed from his own foot and tricked Mr. Malfoy into giving Dobby, thereby setting Dobby free. The other was covered in pink and orange stripes.

"Dobby, what're you doing here?" Harry said in amazement.

"Dobby has come to work at Hogwarts, sir!" Dobby squealed excitedly. "Professor Dumbledore gave Dobby and Winky jobs, sir!

"Winky?" said Harry. "She's here too?"

"Yes, sir, yes!" said Dobby, and he seized Harry's hand and pulled him off into the kitchen between the four long wooden tables that stood there. Each of these tables was positioned exactly beneath the four House tables above, in the Great Hall. At the moment, they were clear of food, dinner having finished, but an hour ago they had been laden with dishes that were then sent up through the ceiling to their counterparts above.

At least a hundred little elves were standing around the kitchen, beaming, bowing, and curtsying as Dobby led us past them. They were all wearing the same uniform: a tea towel stamped with the Hogwarts crest, and tied, as Winky's had been, like a toga.

Dobby stopped in front of the brick fireplace and pointed.

"Winky, sir!" he said.

Winky was sitting on a stool by the fire. Unlike Dobby, she had obviously not foraged for clothes. She was wearing a neat little skirt and blouse with a matching blue hat, which had holes in it for her large ears. However, while every one of Dobby's strange collection of garments was so clean and well cared for that it looked brand-new, Winky was plainly not taking care of her clothes at all. There were soup stains all down her blouse and a burn in her skirt.

"Hello, Winky," I said, kindly.

Winky's lip quivered. Then she burst into tears, which spilled out of her great brown eyes and splashed down her front, just as they had done at the Quidditch World Cup.

"Oh dear," said Hermione. "Winky, don't cry, please don't..."

But Winky cried harder than ever. Dobby, on the other hand, beamed up at Harry and I.

"Would Harry Potter and Katrina like a cup of tea?" he squeaked loudly, over Winky's sobs.

"Er - yeah, okay," said Harry;  
I simply nodded and smiled at Dobby. It was so nice to see him. He had been my constant companion a few years back when I had been staying with the Malfoy's.

Instantly, about six house-elves came trotting up behind us, bearing a large silver tray laden with a teapot, cups, a milk jug, and a large plate of biscuits.

"Good service!" Ron said, in an impressed voice. Hermione frowned at him, but the elves all looked delighted; they bowed very low and retreated.

"How long have you been here, Dobby?" Harry asked as Dobby handed around the tea.

"Only a week. Harry Potter, sir!" said Dobby happily. "Katrina suggested that Dobby come see Professor Dumbledore, sir. You see, sir, it is very difficult for a house-elf who has been dismissed to get a new position, sir, very difficult indeed -"

At this, Winky howled even harder.

"Dobby has traveled the country for two whole years, sir, trying to find work!" Dobby squeaked. "But Dobby hasn't found work, sir, because Dobby wants paying now!"

The house-elves all around the kitchen, who had been listening and watching with interest, all looked away at these words, as though Dobby had said something rude and embarrassing. Hermione, however, said, "Good for you, Dobby!"

"Thank you, miss!" said Dobby, grinning toothily at her. "But most wizards doesn't want a house-elf who wants paying, miss. 'That's not the point of a house-elf,' they says, and they slammed the door in Dobby's face! Dobby likes work, but he wants to wear clothes and he wants to be paid. Harry Potter...Dobby likes being free!" I grinned down at him, his enthusiasm is infectious.

The Hogwarts house-elves had now started edging away from Dobby, as though he were carrying something contagious. Winky, however, remained where she was, though there was a definite increase in the volume of her crying.

"And then, Harry Potter, Dobby goes to visit Winky, and finds out Winky has been freed too, sir!" said Dobby delightedly.

At this, Winky flung herself forward off her stool and lay face-down on the flagged stone floor, beating her tiny fists upon it and positively screaming with misery. Hermione hastily dropped down to her knees beside her and tried to comfort her, but nothing she said made the slightest difference. I would have tried as well but I had had no luck comforting her in the past and knew that it was no good.

Dobby continued with his story, shouting shrilly over Winky's screeches.

"And then Dobby decided to visit Katrina and see how she was doing. Harry Potter, sir! 'So Dobby and Winky came to see her here at Hogwarts and mentioned that we were struggling to find work and she suggested that we talk Professor Dumbledore, sir, and Professor Dumbledore took us on!"

Dobby beamed very brightly, and happy tears welled in his eyes again.

"And Professor Dumbledore says he will pay Dobby, sir, if Dobby wants paying! And so Dobby is a free elf, sir, and Dobby gets a Galleon a week and one day off a month!"

"That's not very much!" Hermione shouted indignantly from the floor, over Winky's continued screaming and fist-beating.

"Professor Dumbledore offered Dobby ten Galleons a week, and weekends off," said Dobby, suddenly giving a little shiver, as though the prospect of so much leisure and riches were frightening, "but Dobby beat him down, miss....Dobby likes freedom, miss, but he isn't wanting too much, miss, he likes work better."

"And how much is Professor Dumbledore paying you, Winky?" Hermione asked kindly. I shook my head. Oh no, this was not going to end well. I know Hermione's heart was in the right place, but she just wasn't very good at understanding house elves.

If she had thought this would cheer up Winky, she was wildly mistaken. Winky did stop crying, but when she sat up she was glaring at Hermione through her massive brown eyes, her whole face sopping wet and suddenly furious.

"Winky is a disgraced elf, but Winky is not yet getting paid!" she squeaked. "Winky is not sunk so low as that! Winky is properly ashamed of being freed!"

"Ashamed?" said Hermione blankly. "But - Winky, come on! It's Mr. Crouch who should be ashamed, not you! You didn't do anything wrong, he was really horrible to you -"

But at these words, Winky clapped her hands over the holes in her hat, flattening her ears so that she couldn't hear a word, and screeched, "You is not insulting my master, miss! You is not insulting Mr. Crouch! Mr. Crouch is a good wizard, miss! Mr. Crouch is right to sack bad Winky!"

"Winky is having trouble adjusting, Harry Potter," squeaked Dobby confidentially. "Winky forgets she is not bound to Mr. Crouch anymore; she is allowed to speak her mind now, but she won't do it."

"Can't house-elves speak their minds about their masters, then?" Harry asked. Oh come on, Harry! I looked at him in surprise. Did he not remember the way Dobby was incapable of talking about the Malfoy in a bad many in our second year? I swear, sometimes Harry; and Ron for that matter, could be so clueless.

"Oh no, sir, no," said Dobby, looking suddenly serious. "'Tis part of the house-elf's enslavement, sir. We keeps their secrets and our silence, sir. We upholds the family's honor, and we never speaks ill of them - though Professor Dumbledore told Dobby he does not insist upon this. Professor Dumbledore said we is free to - to -"

Dobby looked suddenly nervous and beckoned us closer. Harry bent forward. Dobby whispered, "He said we is free to call him a - a barmy old codger if we likes, sir!"

Dobby gave a frightened sort of giggle. I laughed. My Grandfather can be so bizarre sometimes, but strangely enough, it could be considered by many to be a very accurate summation.

"But Dobby is not wanting to," he said, talking normally again, and shaking his head so that his ears flapped. "Dobby likes Professor Dumbledore very much, sir, and is proud to keep his secrets and our silence for him."

"But you can say what you like about the Malfoys now?" Harry asked him, grinning.

A slightly fearful look came into Dobby's immense eyes.

"Dobby - Dobby could," he said doubtfully. He squared his small shoulders. "Dobby could say that his old masters were - were - bad Dark wizards!"

Dobby stood for a moment, quivering all over, horror-struck by his own daring - then he rushed over to the nearest table and began banging his head on it very hard, squealing, "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!"

I seized Dobby by the back of his tie and pulled him away from the table.

"Thank you, miss Katrina, thank you," said Dobby breathlessly, rubbing his head.

"You just need a bit of practice," Harry said.

"Practice!" squealed Winky furiously. "You is ought to be ashamed of yourself, Dobby, talking that way about your masters!"

"They isn't my masters anymore, Winky!" said Dobby defiantly. "Dobby doesn't care what they think anymore!" Good for you! I thought. I was proud of Dobby for getting out from under their evil shadow. They had treated him like trash and it had killed me to watch their interactions when I had been staying with them. I mean I know house elves live to serve but still. It doesn't mean they deserve to be disrespected and forced to punish themselves for every minor foible. Especially not when the one who was being served was as bat-shit crazy as Lucius!

"Oh you is a bad elf, Dobby!" moaned Winky, tears leaking down her face once more. "My poor Mr. Crouch, what is he doing without Winky? He is needing me, he is needing my help! I is looking after the Crouches all my life, and my mother is doing it before me, and my grandmother is doing it before her...oh what is they saying if they knew Winky was freed? Oh the shame, the shame!" She buried her face in her skirt again and bawled.

"Winky," said Hermione firmly, "I'm quite sure Mr. Crouch is getting along perfectly well without you. We've seen him, you know -" I smacked my forehead. I had been keeping that piece  
of information to myself for a reason!

"You is seeing my master?" said Winky breathlessly, raising her tearstained face out of her skirt once more and goggling at Hermione. "You is seeing him here at Hogwarts?"

"Yes," said Hermione, "he and Mr. Bagman are judges in the Triwizard Tournament."

"Mr. Bagman comes too?" squeaked Winky, and to my great surprise she looked angry again. "Mr. Bagman is a bad wizard! A very bad wizard! My master isn't liking him, oh no, not at all!"

"Bagman - bad?" said Harry.

"Oh yes," Winky said, nodding her head furiously, "My master is telling Winky some things! But Winky is not saying...Winky - Winky keeps her master's secrets..."

She dissolved yet again in tears; we could hear her sobbing into her skirt, "Poor master, poor master, no Winky to help him no more!"

We couldn't get another sensible word out of Winky. We left her to her crying and finished our tea, while Dobby chatted happily about his life as a free elf and his plans for his wages.

"Dobby is going to buy a sweater next!" he said happily, pointing at his bare chest. I smiled, I loved seeing Dobby so happy.

"Tell you what, Dobby," said Ron, who seemed to have taken a great liking to the elf, as well, "I'll give you the one my mum knits me this Christmas, I always get one from her. You don't mind maroon, do you?"

Dobby was delighted.

"We might have to shrink it a bit to fit you," Ron told him, "but it'll go well with your tea cozy."

As we prepared to take our leave, many of the surrounding elves pressed in upon us, offering snacks to take back upstairs. Hermione refused, with a pained look at the way the elves kept bowing and curtsying, but Harry, Ron, and I loaded our pockets with cream cakes and pies.

"Thanks a lot!" We said to the elves, who had all clustered around the door to say good night. "See you, Dobby!"

"Harry Potter, Katrina...can Dobby come and see you sometimes, sir? Miss?" Dobby asked tentatively.

" 'Course you can," we said, and Dobby beamed.

"You know what?" said Ron, once we had left the kitchens behind and were climbing the steps into the entrance hall again. "All these years I've been really impressed with Fred and George, nicking food from the kitchens - well, it's not exactly difficult, is it? They can't wait to give it away!"

"I think this is the best thing that could have happened to those elves, you know," said Hermione, leading the way back up the marble staircase. "Dobby coming to work here, I mean. The other elves will see how happy he is, being free, and slowly it'll dawn on them that they want that too!"

"Let's hope they don't look too closely at Winky," I said sadly.

"Oh she'll cheer up," said Hermione, though she sounded a bit doubtful. "Once the shock's worn off, and she's got used to Hogwarts, she'll see how much better off she is without that Crouch man."

"She seems to love him," said Ron thickly (he had just started on a cream cake). He was right. If you ask me, she and Percy should form a "We love Mr Crouch" club. "Doesn't think much of Bagman, though, does she?" said Harry. "Wonder what Crouch says at home about him?"

"Probably says he's not a very good Head of Department," said Hermione, "and let's face it...he's got a point, hasn't he?"

"I'd still rather work for him than old Crouch," said Ron. "At least Bagman's got a sense of humor."

"Don't let Percy hear you saying that," Hermione said, smiling slightly.

"Yeah, well, Percy wouldn't want to work for anyone with a sense of humor, would he?" said Ron, now starting on a chocolate eclair. "Percy wouldn't recognize a joke if it danced naked in front of him wearing Dobby's tea cozy." I giggled as we walked slowly back up to the Gryffindor common room.

********************************************

In-line Comments

\- Sorry if there wasnt too much original content to this chapter I just couldnt think of too much that could have been added or changed without deleting the chapter entirely.   
\- If anyone can come up with a good nickname for Lucius Malfoy I will dedicate the chapter when i use it to you :)


	80. The Unexpected Task

Moody's POV

I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Both Harry and Katrina had made it safely past the first task. Now all that I had to do was get them to open their damn eggs already and figure out the next clue! My tongue snaked over my lips as I contemplated what the best way to do this might be. This was going to take some serious thought. I couldn't run the risk of getting caught before the plan could come to fruition.

Katrina's POV

Potter! Weasley! Will you pay attention?"

Professor McGonagall's irritated voice cracked like a whip through the Transfiguration class on Thursday, and Harry and Ron both jumped and looked up. I rolled my eyes. Did they ever not get in trouble for one reason or other?!

It was the end of the lesson; we had finished our work; the guinea fowl we had been changing into guinea pigs had been shut away in a large cage on Professor McGonagall's desk (Neville's still had feathers); we had copied down our homework from the blackboard ("Describe, with examples, the ways in which Transforming Spells must be adapted when performing Cross-Species Switches") and the bell was due to ring at any moment, and Harry and Ron, who had been having a sword fight with a couple of Fred and George's fake wands at the back of the class, looked up, Ron holding a tin parrot and Harry, a rubber haddock. As funny as they looked, I couldn't help but wish that my friends would be a little more respectful towards Minnie. She was one of my ultimate favorite professors.

"Now that Potter and Weasley have been kind enough to act their age," said Professor McGonagall, with an angry look at the pair of them as the head of Harry's haddock drooped and fell silently to the floor - Ron's parrot's beak had severed it moments before - "I have something to say to you all.

"The Yule Ball is approaching - a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above - although you may invite a younger student if you wish -"

Lavender Brown let out a shrill giggle. Parvati Patil nudged her hard in the ribs, her face working furiously as she too fought not to giggle. They both looked around at Harry, Professor McGonagall ignored them, which I had to admit was distinctly unfair, as she had just told off Harry and Ron. Plus, I didn't like the way that they were looking at Harry. Wipe those looks off your faces, ladies! I hissed under my breath.

"Dress robes will be worn," Professor McGonagall continued, "and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. Now then -"

Minnie stared deliberately around the class.

"The Yule Ball is of course a chance for us all to - er - let our hair down," she said, in a disapproving voice.

Lavender giggled harder than ever, with her hand pressed hard against her mouth to stifle the sound. I could see what was funny this time: Professor McGonagall, with her hair in a tight bun, looked as though she had never let her hair down in any sense, but after the way Lavender had looked at Harry,  
I was not inclined to laugh at anything she said; unless it was to laugh at her.

"But that does NOT mean," Professor McGonagall went on, "that we will be relaxing the standards of behavior we expect from Hogwarts students. I will be most seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarrasses the school in any way."

The bell rang, and there was the usual scuffle of activity as everyone packed their bags and swung them onto their shoulders.

Professor McGonagall called above the noise, "Potter, Katrina - a word, if you please."

Harry and I proceeded to the teacher's desk. Professor McGonagall waited until the rest of the class had gone, and then said, "Potter, Katrina, the champions and their partners -"

"What partners?" said Harry. I rolled my eyes again - I seemed to do that a lot around Harry and Ron - I'm sure there's no correlation.

Profesor McGonagall looked suspiciously at Harry, as though she thought he was trying to be funny.

"Your partners for the Yule Ball, Potter," she said coldly. "Your dance partners."

My insides seemed to curl up and shrivel.

"Dance partners?" I said going red.

"We don't dance," Harry said quickly.

"Oh yes, you do," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "That's what I'm telling you. Traditionally, the champions and their partners open the ball."

"I'm not dancing," Harry and I said at the same time. I nudged him with a whispered Jinx.

"It is traditional," said Professor McGonagall firmly. "You are Hogwarts champions, and you will do what is expected of you as representatives of the school. So make sure you get yourselves partners.

"But - we don't -"

"You heard me, Potter, Katrina," said Professor McGonagall in a very final sort of way.

A week ago. I would have said finding a partner for the dance would be a cinch compared to taking on a Dragon. But now that I had flown of the back of the latter, and was facing the prospect of asking a boy to the ball/waiting to be asked, I thought I'd rather have another round with the dragon.

I had never known so many people to put their names down to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas; I always did, of course, but most students left. This year, however, everyone in the fourth year and above seemed to be staying, and they all seemed to me to be obsessed with the coming ball - or at least all the girls were, everywhere Hermione and I went girls were giggling and pointing at boys. I mean call me crazy, but I just wasn't looking very forward to the dance. Not only had I never danced before, but I had no idea who I wanted to go with. Well I knew - Harry - but even if by some strange miracle he did ask me, I doubted we'd be allowed to go. Could two champions pair up together? Hermione suggested asking Prof. McGonagall but no way was I talking to Minnie about boys!

There was also the fact that I kept getting stared at by what felt like the entire population of boys in the castle other than the ones that I was actually interested in; they, of course, didn't seem to be giving me a second glance. Everyone else? Ugh. I couldn't get to class without stumbling into one guy or another and they all tried various ways of asking me out.

Both the Creevey brothers had stammered out invitations over breakfast the next morning and my face was beet red from all the laughing as I cringed and tried to find a nice way to turn then down.

Then on the way to class I was stopped outside the Great Hall by someone unexpected. I never would have imagined that Blaise; one of Draco's friends, would ever ask me out. I had to admit, he was fairly cute, but he had never given me the time of day before and I got a weird vibe from him so I turned him down.

By the time I had managed to catch up to Hermione outside of class, I had been asked out by two more strangers who I had never even seen before; one from Hufflepuff, and one from Ravenclaw. It was clear they weren't actually interested in me as a person though.

"Ugh, stupid dance," I whispered to Hermione as we entered our Arithmancy class. "Everyone is just asking me because I'm one of the Champions not because they actually like me! And I don't want to go with someone who just wants me for that! And now everyone is probably going to think I'm a horrible and shallow person for turning everyone down!"

"Of course they won't think that, Kat! You're the sweetest and most kind person I know and the entire school knows it as well!"

"Well, that's great and all Hermione, really great, but I still don't want to be asked just because I'm the school's sweetheart or whatever! You should see the way half the boys in school are looking at me! It's like they don't even se me! They just look me up and down like a piece of meat with their eyes all glazed over and this creepy pod-person smile on their face! And they are all people I barely even know! I just wish Ha-I mean, I just with that someone who actually knew me would find me worthy of asking!"

Hermione glanced over at me with a sly smirk on her face. "You mean someone like Harry?" she said with a grin.

"What? No! Are you crazy? Why, why, would you think that?" I stammered out.

"Oh please, I've seen the way you two look at each other! You're obviously meant for each other! Unless you would rather go with Cedric?" Hermione wiggled her brows at me as she said his name. I blushed and looked down. Honestly, at this point I didn't know which one I liked more. Not that either of them would ask me. They were to enamored with Cho Chang to pay any attention to me.

Harry's POV

"Why do they have to move in packs?" I asked Ron as a dozen or so girls walked past us, sniggering and staring at me. "How're you supposed to get one on their own to ask them?"

"Lasso one?" Ron suggested. "Got any idea who you're going to try?"

I didn't answer. I knew perfectly well whom I'd like to ask, but working up the nerve was something else...Kat was everything I'd ever wanted from the moment I met her - she was breathtakingly pretty and the sweetest most caring person I had ever met - and she liked me for me, not my fame. But she was also my best friend and I didn't want to risk ruining that! I don't know what I would do without her by my side. Then there was the fact hat she would never say yes. She liked Cedric not me...so who else could I ask? My next choice would be Cho, she was pretty, a good Quidditch player, and very popular.

Ron seemed to know what was going on inside my head.

"Listen, you're not going to have any trouble. You're a champion. You've just beaten a Hungarian Horntail. I bet they'll be queuing up to go with you."

In tribute to our recently repaired friendship, Ron had kept the bitterness in his voice to a bare minimum. Moreover, to my amazement, he turned out to be quite right.

A curly-haired third-year Hufflepuff girl to whom I had never spoken in my life asked me to go to the ball with her the very next day. I was so taken aback I said no before I'd even stopped to consider the matter. The girl walked off looking rather hurt, and I had to endure Dean's, Seamus's, and Ron's taunts about her all through History of Magic. The following day, two more girls asked me, a second year and (to my horror) a fifth year who looked as though she might knock me out if I refused.

"She was quite good-looking," said Ron fairly, after he'd stopped laughing.

"She was a foot taller than me," I said, still unnerved. "Imagine what I'd look like trying to dance with her."

I went silent as I watched yet another guy stride up to Hermione and Kat and tug my best friend aside. I craned my neck to keep them in my view. Everywhere she went she was being asked. What hope did I have when she had her pick of the entire school. I doubt anyone would say no if they were lucky enough for her to be interested in! I just wish I was that lucky...

After an annoyingly long time, Kat rejoined Hermione with a look over her shoulder at the rejected seventh year Ravenclaw. I inwardly sighed in relief as he walked away with his head down.

Katrina's POV

The next few days were filled with annoying interruptions from guys as they tried to ask me out. I really wasn't trying to seem shallow by turning them all down, I honestly would probably say yes if I felt that any of them weren't just interested in me because I was a champion!

Nevertheless, on the whole, I had to admit that even with the embarrassing prospect of opening the ball before me, life had definitely improved since Harry and I had got through the first task. We weren't attracting nearly as much unpleasantness in the corridors anymore, which I suspected had a lot to do with Cedric - I had an idea Cedric might have told the Hufflepuffs to leave Harry and I alone, in gratitude for our tip-off about the dragons. There seemed to be fewer Support Cedric Diggory! badges around too. Draco, of course, was still quoting Rita Skeeter's article to Harry at every possible opportunity, but he was getting fewer and fewer laughs out of it - and just to heighten my feeling of well-being, no story about Hagrid had appeared in the Daily Prophet.

"She didn' seem very int'rested in magical creatures, ter tell yeh the truth," Hagrid said, when Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I asked him how his interview with Rita Skeeter had gone during the last Care of Magical Creatures lesson of the term. To our very great relief, Hagrid had given up on direct contact with the skrewts now, and we were merely sheltering behind his cabin today, sitting at a trestle table and preparing a fresh selection of food with which to tempt the skrewts.

"She jus' wanted me ter talk about you, Harry, and Katrina," Hagrid continued in a low voice. "Well, I told her we'd been friends since I went ter fetch yeh from the Dursleys and went to Diagon Alley. 'Never had to tell em off in four years?' she said. 'Never played you up in lessons?' I told her no, an she didn' seem happy at all. Yeh'd think she wanted me to say yeh two were horrible."

"'Course she did," said Harry, throwing lumps of dragon liver into a large metal bowl and picking up his knife to cut some more. "She can't keep writing about what a tragic little hero I am, or about Katrina's scar, it'll get boring."

"She wants new angles, Hagrid," said Ron wisely as he shelled salamander eggs. "You were supposed to say Harry and Katrina are mad delinquents!"

"But they're not!" said Hagrid, looking genuinely shocked.

"She should've interviewed Snape," said Harry grimly. "He'd give her the goods on me any day. 'Potter has been crossing lines ever since he first arrived at this school...'"

"Said that, did he?" said Hagrid, while Ron, Hermione, and I laughed. "Well, yeh might've bent a few rules. Harry, bu' yeh're all righ' really, aren' you?"

"Cheers, Hagrid," said Harry, grinning.

"You coming to this ball thing on Christmas Day, Hagrid?" said Ron.

"Though' I might look in on it, yeah," said Hagrid gruffly. "Should be a good do, I reckon. You'll be openin the dancin', won yeh, Harry? Katrina? Who're ye takin'?"

"No one, yet," Harry and I said, I felt my face going red again as I glanced over at Harry. Thankfully,  
Hagrid didn't pursue the subject.

********************************************

The last week of term became increasingly boisterous as it progressed. Rumors about the Yule Ball were flying everywhere, though I didn't believe half of them - for instance, that Grandfather had bought eight hundred barrels of mulled mead from Madam Rosmerta. It seemed to be fact, however, that he had booked the Weird Sisters. Exactly who or what the Weird Sisters were I didn't know, never having had access to a wizard's wireless, but I deduced from the wild excitement of those who had grown up listening to the WWN (Wizarding Wireless Network) that they were a very famous musical group.

Some of the teachers, like little Professor Flitwick, gave up trying to teach us much when our minds were so clearly elsewhere; he allowed us to play games in his lesson on Wednesday, and spent most of it talking to Harry about the perfect Summoning Charm Harry had used during the first task of the Triwizard Tournament.

Other teachers were not so generous. Nothing would ever deflect Professor Binns, for example, from plowing on through his notes on goblin rebellions - as Binns hadn't let his own death stand in the way of continuing to teach, I supposed a small thing like Christmas wasn't going to put him off. It was amazing how he could make even bloody and vicious goblin riots sound as boring as Percy's cauldron-bottom report. Professors McGonagall and Moody kept us working until the very last second of their classes too, and Sev, of course, would no sooner let us play games in class than adopt Harry. Staring nastily around at us all, he informed us that he would be testing us on poison antidotes during the last lesson of the term.

"Evil, he is," Ron said bitterly that night in the Gryffindor common room. "Springing a test on us on the last day. Ruining the last bit of term with a whole load of studying."

"Mmm...you're not exactly straining yourself, though, are you?" said Hermione, looking at him over the top of her Potions notes. Ron was busy building a card castle out of his Exploding Snap pack - a much more interesting pastime than with Muggle cards, because of the chance that the whole thing would blow up at any second.

"It's Christmas, Hermione," said Harry lazily; he was rereading Flying with the Cannons for the tenth time in an armchair near the fire.

Hermione looked severely over at him too. "I'd have thought you'd be doing something constructive, Harry, even if you don't want to learn your antidotes!"

"Like what?" Harry said as he watched Joey Jenkins of the Cannons belt a Bludger toward a Ballycastle Bats Chaser.

"That egg!" Hermione hissed.

"Come on, Hermione, we've got till February the twenty-fourth," Harry said. I realized with a shock that ai hadn't even thought about the egg since the tournament and felt kind of guilty - until I decided that Harry was right. There was still time to work out the clue. There were still two and a half months to go until we needed to know what all the screechy wailing meant, after all.

"But it might take weeks to work it out!" said Hermione. "You two are going to look real idiots if everyone else knows what the next task is and you two don't!"

"Leave them alone, Hermione, they've earned a bit of a break," said Ron, and he placed the last two cards on top of the castle and the whole lot blew up, singeing his eyebrows.

"Nice look, Ron...go well with your dress robes, that will."

It was Fred and George. They sat down at the table with Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I as Ron felt how much damage had been done.

"Ron, can we borrow Pigwidgeon?" George asked.

"No, he's off delivering a letter," said Ron. "Why?"

"Because George wants to invite him to the ball," said Fred sarcastically.

"Because we want to send a letter, you stupid great prat," said George.

"Who d'you two keep writing to, eh?" said Ron.

"Nose out, Ron, or I'll burn that for you too," said Fred, waving his wand threateningly. "So...you lot got dates for the ball yet?"

"Nope," said Ron.

"Well, you'd better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone," said Fred.

"Who're you going with, then?" said Ron.

"Angelina," said Fred promptly, without a trace of embarrassment.

"What?" said Ron, taken aback. "You've already asked her?"

"Good point," said Fred. He turned his head and called across the common room, "Oi! Angelina!"

Angelina, who had been chatting with Alicia Spinnet near the fire, looked over at him.

"What?" she called back.

"Want to come to the ball with me?"

Angelina gave Fred an appraising sort of look.

"All right, then," she said, and she turned back to Alicia and carried on chatting with a bit of a grin on her face.

"There you go," said Fred to Harry and Ron, "piece of cake."

He got to his feet, yawning, and said, "We'd better use a school owl then, George, come on...."

They left. Ron stopped feeling his eyebrows and looked across the smoldering wreck of his card castle at Harry.

"We should get a move on, you know...ask someone. He's right. We don't want to end up with a pair of trolls."

Hermione let out a sputter of indignation.

"A pair of...what, excuse me?" I rolled my eyes. I mean really, what did you expect, Hermione? This is Ron after all.

"Well - you know," said Ron, shrugging. "I'd rather go alone than with - with Eloise Midgen, say."

"Her acne's loads better lately - and she's really nice!"

"Her nose is off-center," said Ron.

"Oh I see," Hermione said, bristling. "So basically, you're going to take the best-looking girl who'll have you, even if she's completely horrible?"

"Er - yeah, that sounds about right," said Ron.

"I'm going to bed," Hermione snapped, and she swept off toward the girls' staircase without another word. I frowned at Ron.

"You know, there's more to girls than just looks, Ron...you'll need to figure that out quickly if you want to actually get a date for the dance. I suspect that with your attitude Eloise will find someone before you do!" with that I stomped off after Hermione leaving the boys flabbergasted.

********************************************

The Hogwarts staff, demonstrating a continued desire to impress the visitors from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, seemed determined to show the castle at its best this Christmas. When the decorations went up. I noticed that they were the most stunning I had yet seen inside the school. Everlasting icicles had been attached to the banisters of the marble staircase; the usual twelve Christmas trees in the Great Hall were bedecked with everything from luminous holly berries to real, hooting, golden owls, and the suits of armor had all been bewitched to sing carols whenever anyone passed them. It was quite something to hear "O Come, All Ye Faithful" sung by an empty helmet that only knew half the words. Several times, Filch the caretaker had to extract Peeves from inside the armor, where he had taken to hiding, filling in the gaps in the songs with lyrics of his own invention, all of which were very rude.

And still. Neither Cedric or Harry appeared to have any interest in asking me to the dance and I kept getting asked by more and more people who couldn't stop staring long enough to get the words out. There were even a number of Durmstrang students who had asked me to go with them but even they were only interested in having something pretty to stand next to and show off.

********************************************

On friday morning Hermione and I were sitting at the breakfast table when we decided to make a pact. By the end of the day, we would both have dates.

"Hey there, Kat," I turned around in surprise to find Draco hovering over me.

"Um, what do you want, Draco?" I said suspiciously. We hadn't talked in a long time and as far as I was aware, were no longer friends.

"Oh, you know, just wondering who you were going to the dance with."

"Uh, why do you care, Draco? You've been ignoring me for the last few months, why the sudden interest?"

"Ph, I don't care," Draco said lazily, but I could tell he was lying. "Crabbe and Goyle have a bet going between Cedric and Harry and were to spineless to ask you themselves which it was."

"Well, you can tell them neither and to butt out of my personal life!" I glared angrily over at the Slytherin table where the two buffoons were scarfing down food and didn't see Draco lean over and slip something into my drink before he left.

"Ohhhh, do you think Draco wants to ask you to the dance?" Hermione said as we watched Draco join Crabbe and Goyle.

"What? Of course not! Why would he suddenly decide to stop ignoring me? Besides, I don't even like him like that anymore. We're just friends now and I'm not even sure of that at the moment!" I stated as we got up and headed off to class.

Harry's POV

"Harry - we've just got to grit our teeth and do it," said Ron on Friday morning, in a tone that suggested we were planning the storming of an impregnable fortress. "When we get back to the common room tonight, we'll both have partners - agreed?"

"Er...okay," I said.

But every time I was about to ask Katrina, some other bloody idiot would interrupt us to ask her themselves! And every time I glimpsed Cho that day - during break, and then lunchtime, and once on the way to History of Magic - she was surrounded by friends. Didn't she ever go anywhere alone? Could I perhaps ambush her as she was going into a bathroom? But no - she even seemed to go there with an escort of four or five girls. Yet if I didn't do it soon, she was bound to have been asked by somebody else.

Katrina's POV

I found it hard to concentrate on my Potions test; I could feel Draco's eyes on me the entire time. Was Hermione right? Was he actually interested in me like that? Was I? I didn't think so...but as I slowly stirred my potion and added the key ingredient; a bezoar - a strange warm sensation started to lace throughout my body and ai found myself looking back at Draco several times. I was too lost in my own thoughts to see Blaise high-five him and smirk at me with a glint of revenge in his eyes. Why should I care what Blaise was up to, I was far more interested in figuring out what Draco was doing.

********************************************

For the rest of the day, my thoughts revolved around Draco and whether or not he was going to ask me to the dance. I really hoped he did! It would he amazing! But why would he? A handsome guy like him could have his pick. I barely even noticed when Harry said he would meet us later for dinner and dashed off to go find Cho so he could ask her out.

I was about to walk into the Great Hall when I was suddenly yanked aside. I opened my mouth to scream but a hand muffled my shout.

"Kat, it's fine, it's just me," I heard Draco say. I suddenly let out a girlish squeal unlike any sound I had ever made before and turned around to playfully slap his hand down.

"Draco, you scared me!" I giggled and blushed as I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and smile at him. I couldn't stop staring at him. There was something about him that I couldn't name, it was like I was truly seeing him for the first time. I subconsciously licked my lips as my gaze landed on his.

"Hey, Kat, I was wondering if I could ask you something?" Draco said leaning in close so that I was trapped between him and the wall. But I didn't feel trapped...I felt all warm and fuzzy and a tingling sensation was running through my body as he got closer and closer.

My cheeks went red as my breath hitched and I nodded wordlessly.

He bent down and I could feel his breath on my neck as he whispered, "will you go to the ball with me?" in my ear.

I stared up at him with wide eyes. I can't believe it! He asked me out! I couldn't manage any words so I just nodded again as he kissed my cheek and walked away with a smug smile on his face that I couldn't see.

"Oh, my, Merlin! Did he ask you?!" Hermione squealed as I sat down beside her with a goofy grin on my face.

"Yeah, yeah, he did!" I said, as I sank my head into my hand and gazed off dreamily. Then I noticed her own wide smile and sat up.

"Did someone ask you?!" I exclaimed.

"Yeah, Victor Krum just asked me!" She said excitedly. I hugged her tightly and smiled. I knew it! A few minutes later Neville came over to us and asked if either of us would like to go to the ball with him. If I wasn't already going with Draco I would have said yes but unfortunately we both had to turn him down. I felt slightly bad about it but was too giddy over the thought of getting to go with Draco.

Not five minutes later we were joined by Ginny who told us that Neville had just asked her to be his date. Awww, they would make a cute couple! For the first time I was actually excited about the ball. This might actually be the best night ever!

Harry's POV

Completely forgetting about dinner, I walked slowly back up to Gryffindor Tower, Cho's voice echoing in my ears with every step he took. "Cedric - Cedric Diggory." I had been starting to quite like Cedric - prepared to overlook the fact that he had once beaten me at Quidditch, and was handsome, and popular, and nearly everyone's favorite champion and someone that Kat had a major crush on. Now I suddenly realized that Cedric was in fact a useless pretty boy who didn't have enough brains to fill an eggcup and was just interested in stealing all the pretty girls for hinself.

"Fairy lights," I said dully to the Fat Lady - the password had been changed the previous day.

"Yes, indeed, dear!" she trilled, straightening her new tinsel hair band as she swung forward to admit me.

Entering the common room, I looked around, and to my surprise I saw Ron sitting ashen-faced in a distant corner. Ginny was sitting with him, talking to him in what seemed to be a low, soothing voice.

"What's up, Ron?" I said, joining them.

Ron looked up at me, a sort of blind horror in his face.

"Why did I do it?" he said wildly. "I don't know what made me do it!

"What?" I asked.

"He - er - just asked Fleur Delacour to go to the ball with him," said Ginny. She looked as though she was fighting back a smile, but she kept patting Ron's arm sympathetically.

"You what?' I exclaimed.

"I don't know what made me do it!" Ron gasped again. "What was I playing at? There were people - all around - I've gone mad - everyone watching! I was just walking past her in the entrance hall - she was standing there talking to Diggory - and it sort of came over me - and I asked her!"

Ron moaned and put his face in his hands. He kept talking, though the words were barely distinguishable.

"She looked at me like I was a sea slug or something. Didn't even answer. And then - I dunno - I just sort of came to my senses and ran for it."

"She's part veela," I said. "You were right - her grandmother was one. It wasn't your fault, I bet you just walked past when she was turning on the old charm for Diggory and got a blast of it - but she was wasting her time. He's going with Cho Chang."

Ron looked up.

"I asked her to go with me just now," I said dully, "and she told me."

Ginny had suddenly stopped smiling.

"This is mad," said Ron. "We're the only ones left who haven't got anyone - well, except Neville. Hey - guess who he asked? Hermione and Katrina!"

"What?" I said, completely distracted by this startling news.

"Yeah, I know!" said Ron, some of the color coming back into his face as he started to laugh. "He told me after Potions! Said they're always been really nice, helping him out with work and stuff- but they told him they were already going with someone. Ha! As if! They just didn't want to go with Neville...I mean, who would?"

"Don't!" said Ginny, annoyed. "Don't laugh -"

Just then Hermione and Kat climbed in through the portrait hole.

"Why weren't you two at dinner?" she said, coming over to join us.

"Because - oh shut up laughing, you two - because they've both just been turned down by girls they asked to the ball!" said Ginny.

That shut Ron and I up.

"Thanks a bunch, Ginny," said Ron sourly.

"All the good-looking ones taken, Ron?" said Hermione loftily. "Eloise Midgen starting to look quite pretty now, is she? Well, I'm sure you'll find someone somewhere who'll have you."

But Ron was staring at Hermione as though suddenly seeing her in a whole new light.

"Hermione, Neville's right - you and Katrina are girls..."

"Oh well spotted," she said acidly.

"Well - you two can come with us!"

"No, we can't," snapped Hermione.

"Oh come on," he said impatiently, "we need partners, we're going to look really stupid if we haven't got any, everyone else has..."

"We can't come with you," said Hermione, now blushing, "because we are already going with someone." I glanced at Kat who blushed and had a starry look in her eyes. Their normal twinkle looked a little foggy but I was probably seeing things.

"No, you're not!" said Ron. "You just said that to get rid of Neville!"

"Oh did we?" said Hermione, and her eyes flashed dangerously. "Just because it's taken you three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one else has spotted that we are girls!"

Ron stared at her. Then he grinned again.

"Okay, okay, we know you two are girls," he said. "That do? Will you come now?"

"She's already told you!" Katrina said very angrily. "We are going with someone else!"

And they stormed off toward the girls' dormitories again.

"They're lying," said Ron flatly, watching them go.

"They're not," said Ginny quietly.

"Who are they going with then?" said Ron sharply.

"I'm not telling you, it's their business," said Ginny.

"Right," said Ron, who looked extremely put out, "this is getting stupid. Ginny, you can go with Harry, and I'll just -"

"I can't," said Ginny, and she went scarlet too. "I'm going with - with Neville. He asked me when Hermione and Katrina said no, and I thought...well...I'm not going to be able to go otherwise, I'm not in fourth year." She looked extremely miserable. "I think I'll go and have dinner," she said, and she got up and walked off to the portrait hole, her head bowed.

Ron goggled at me.

"What's got into them?" he demanded.

I was too shocked at hearing that Katrina was going with someone else. Was that true? and if so? Who was she going with?! It can't be Cedric since ai now knew he was going with Cho, so who was it?!

As I thought about who it could be, I saw Parvati and Lavender come in through the portrait hole. The time had come for drastic action.

"Wait here," I said to Ron, and I stood up, walked straight up to Parvati, and said, "Parvati? Will you go to the ball with me?"

Parvati went into a fit of giggles. I waited for them to subside, my fingers crossed in the pocket of my robes.

"Yes, all right then," she said finally, blushing furiously.

"Thanks," I said, in relief. "Lavender - will you go with Ron?"

"She's going with Seamus," said Parvati, and the pair of them giggled harder than ever.

I sighed.

"Can't you think of anyone who'd go with Ron?" I said, lowering my voice so that Ron wouldn't hear.

"What about Hermione Granger? Or Katrina? said Parvati. "I'm actually surprised you didn't ask her!"

"They're going with someone else."

Parvati looked astonished.

"Ooooh - who?" she said keenly.

I shrugged. "No idea," he said. "So what about Ron?"

"Well..." said Parvati slowly, "I suppose my sister might...Padma, you know...in Ravenclaw. I'll ask her if you like."

"Yeah, that would be great," I said. "Let me know, will you?"

And I went back over to Ron, feeling that this ball was a lot more trouble than it was worth, and hoping very much that Padma Patil's nose was dead center.

********************************************

In-line Comments

\- thoughts on the chapter?  
\- sorry to anyone who wanted to see Kat go with Cho or Harry but I figured this was going to be the best way to proceed with the tasks - feel free to share your opinions good or bad on Kat's date :p lol   
\- If it isn't clear, Blaise is out for revenge for Kat turning him down so yeah Draco is kinda a nitwit in the following chapters but try not to hate him too much - he's following the wrong people as always but his intentions were somewhat in the right place - he genuinely does like and care about kat like snape did with lilly but he's just as bad at going about showing it lol


	81. The Yule Ball

Katrina's POV

Despite the very heavy load of homework that we fourth years had been given for the holidays, I was in no mood to work when term ended, and spent the week leading up to Christmas enjoying myself as fully as possible along with everyone else. Gryffindor Tower was hardly less crowded now than during term-time; it seemed to have shrunk slightly too, as its inhabitants were being so much rowdier than usual.

Fred and George had had a great success with their Canary Creams, and for the first couple of days of the holidays, people kept bursting into feathers all over the place. Before long, however, all the Gryffindors had learned to treat food anybody else offered them with extreme caution, in case it had a Canary Cream concealed in the center, and George confided to Harry and I that he and Fred were now working on developing something else. I made a mental note never to accept so much as a crisp from Fred and George in future. I still hadn't forgotten Harry's story of Dudley and the Ton-Tongue Toffee.

Snow was falling thickly upon the castle and its grounds now. The pale blue Beauxbatons carriage looked like a large, chilly, frosted pumpkin next to the iced gingerbread house that was Hagrid's cabin, while the Durmstrang ship's portholes were glazed with ice, the rigging white with frost. The house-elves down in the kitchen were outdoing themselves with a series of rich, warming stews and savory puddings, and only Fleur Delacour seemed to be able to find anything to complain about.

"It is too 'eavy, all zis 'Ogwarts food," we heard her saying grumpily as we left the Great Hall behind her one evening (Ron skulking behind Harry, keen not to be spotted by Fleur). "I will not fit into my dress robes!"

"Oooh there's a tragedy," Hermione snapped as Fleur went out into the entrance hall. "She really thinks a lot of herself, that one, doesn't she?"

"Hermione - Katrina, who are you going to the ball with?" said Ron.

He kept springing this question on us, hoping to startle us into a response by asking it when we least expected it. Though I think he cared more about Hermione's answer than mine. If I didn't know any better, I would say he was jealous. However, Hermione merely frowned and said, "We're not telling you, you'll just make fun of us. Besides, you're going with Padma Patil, so why do you care who we are going with!" Hermione said hautily.

"You're joking, Granger!" said Draco, behind us. "You're not telling me someone's asked that to the ball? Not that red-headed freak of a weasel?"

Harry and Ron both whipped around, but I just smiled and laughed. He was so funny, how had I never noticed that before? He winked at me as he heard me laugh. Hermione said loudly, waving to somebody over Draco's shoulder, "Hello, Professor Moody!"

Draco went pale and jumped backward, looking wildly around for Moody, but he was still up at the staff table, finishing his stew.

"Twitchy little ferret, aren't you, Malfoy?" said Hermione scathingly, and she, Harry, and Ron went up the marble staircase laughing heartily. I laughed along with them but stayed behind for a second as Draco motioned for me to come closer.

"You ready for the ball? I have a special gift for you!" He said, his eyes glinting as he looked at me. I hopped up and down and squealed.

"Yes, I'm so excited, I can't wait! It's going to be so amazing, Hermione and I are going to go into Hogsmead to get our dresses - I hope you like whatever I go with! I have no idea what I'm going to wear! I'm sorry, am I rambling? I'm just so excited to be going with you, I'm so happy you asked! You didn't have to get me anything I -"

"Shhh..." Draco said, laughing as he placed a finger over my lips. "I'm glad that you are so excited, and I'm sure you will look absolutely beautiful in whatever you end up wearing. You are gorgeous no matter what clothes you wear - and I know I didn't have to get you anything, but I wanted to. Someone as special as you deserves to be treated as such," Draco said as he gazed intently into my eyes. My legs felt like they were turning to jelly as I stared back at him.

"I-I'm not special, I'm just plain old Kat," I said shakily as I tried to stay upright.

"You are anything but plain, princess," Draco said as he tucked a strand of my hair out of my face - and the next thing I knew he was kissing me.

********************************************

\- look! Pigwidgeon's back!" I was shocked out of my memory of Draco's soft lips against mine at Hermione's words.

Ron's tiny owl was twittering madly on the top of the icicle-laden banisters, a scroll of parchment tied to his leg. People passing him were pointing and laughing, and a group of third-year girls paused and said, "Oh look at the weeny owl! Isn't he cute?"

"Stupid little feathery git!" Ron hissed, hurrying up the stairs and snatching up Pigwidgeon. "You bring letters to the addressee! You don't hang around showing off!" I giggled and Hermione looked at me in suspicion as she wiggled her eyebrows and nudged me. I couldn't help another giggle. What was wrong with me? I hate girls that giggle and here I was doing a perfect imitation of one!

Pigwidgeon hooted happily, his head protruding over Ron's fist. The third-year girls all looked very shocked.

"Clear off!" Ron snapped at them, waving the fist holding Pigwidgeon, who hooted more happily than ever as he soared through the air. I giggled again. "Here - take it, Harry," Ron added in an undertone as the third-year girls scuttled away looking scandalized. He pulled Sirius's reply off Pigwidgeons leg, Harry pocketed it, and we hurried back to Gryffindor Tower to read it.

Everyone in the common room was much too busy in letting off more holiday steam to observe what anyone else was up to. Ron, Harry, Hermione, and I sat apart from everyone else by a dark window that was gradually filling up with snow, and Harry read out:

Dear Harry and Katrina,   
Congratulations on getting past the Horntail, Harry. And I'm so proud of you my angelous paulo! Riding on the back of the King of Dragons? You have to tell me all about it sometime, I want to hear it all. I've heard of the Dragon Riders but there hasn't been one in at least a century. It's an incredible honor but that is a subject that can wait for later. Whoever put your names in that goblet shouldn't be feeling too happy right now! I was going to suggest a Conjunctivitus Curse, as a dragon's eyes are its weakest point -

"That's what Krum did!" Hermione whispered - but your ways were better, I'm impressed. My little girl is clearly growing up.

Don't get complacent, though, you two! You've only done one task; whoever put you in for the tournament's got plenty more opportunity if they're trying to hurt you. Keep your eyes open -particularly when the person we discussed is around and concentrate on keeping yourself out of trouble.  
Keep in touch, I still want to hear about anything unusual.  
Sirius

"He sounds exactly like Moody," said Harry quietly, tucking the letter away again inside his robes. "'Constant vigilance!' You'd think Kat and I walk around with our eyes shut, banging off the walls...." I laughed as I pictured it.

"But he's right, you two," said Hermione, "you have still got two tasks to do. You really ought to have a look at those eggs, you know, and start working out what it means...."

"Hermione, they've got ages!" snapped Ron. "Want a game of chess, Harry?"

"Yeah, okay," said Harry. Then, spotting the look on Hermione's face, he said, "Come on, how're we supposed to concentrate with all this noise going on? We won't even be able to hear the eggs over this lot."

"Oh I suppose not," she sighed, and we sat down to watch their chess match, which culminated in an exciting checkmate of Ron's, involving a couple of recklessly brave pawns and a very violent bishop.

********************************************

I awoke on Christmas Day and rushed to get ready. Today was going to be a great day! I ran a hand through my hair before transforming into my lion cub form and dashing off through the halls and up to Hermione's room. I hopped up and down on her bed until she woke up and started at me bleary-eyed. I mewled loudly and licked her face.

"Merry Christmas, to you too," Kat, Hermione laughed as she picked me up and placed me on the floor so she could get ready. When she had finished we headed over to the boys dormitory and up to Harry and Ron's room.

"Dobby!" I heard Harry yell as we approached their door. "Don't do that!" I laughed as I pictured what Dobby was doing. I had a sneaking suspicion that he had been watching Harry sleep.

"Dobby is sorry, sir!" squeaked Dobby anxiously, jumping backward with his long fingers over his mouth as Hermione and I entered the room. "Dobby is only wanting to wish Harry Potter and Katrina a 'Merry Christmas' and bring them a present, Sir! Harry Potter did say Dobby could come and see him sometimes, sir!"

It's okay," said Harry, breathing rather faster than usual. "Just - just prod me or something in future, all right, don't bend over me like that...." I burst into tears of laughter and Hermione had to pat me on the back.

Harry's yell had awoken Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville as well. All of them were peering through the gaps in their own hangings, heavy-eyed and tousle-haired.

"Someone attacking you, Harry?" Seamus asked sleepily.

"No, it's just Dobby," Harry muttered. "Go back to sleep."

"Nah...presents!" said Seamus, spotting the large pile at the foot of his bed. Ron, Dean, and Neville decided that now they were awake they might as well get down to some present-opening too so we all sat down and I gave Harry Ron and Hermione their gifts and vice versa. Harry turned back to Dobby, who was now standing nervously next to Harry's bed, still looking worried that he had upset Harry. There was a Christmas bauble tied to the loop on top of his tea cozy.

"Can Dobby give Harry Potter and Miss Katrina his presents?" he squeaked tentatively.

"'Course you can," said Harry and I. I reached down and picked up Dobby's gift and gave it to him. I had gotten him  a blue beanie for him to wear.

I saw Harry frantically search around and grab some socks as his gift for Dobby and rolled my eyes - I really should try and break that habit, but there's just too many opportunities to do so calling out to me when I'm around them.

Dobby was utterly delighted.

"Socks and hats are Dobby's favorite, favorite clothes, sir!" he said, ripping off his odd ones and pulling on Uncle Vernon's. "I has seven now, sir...But sir..." he said, his eyes widening, having pulled both socks up to their highest extent, and placed the beanie over his head till it covered his large floppy ears, "they has made a mistake in the shop, Harry Potter, they is giving you two the same!"

"Ah, no, Harry, how come you didn't spot that?" said Ron, grinning over from his own bed, which was now strewn with wrapping paper. "Tell you what, Dobby - here you go - take these two, and you can mix them up properly. And here's your sweater."

He threw Dobby a pair of violet socks he had just unwrapped, and the hand-knitted sweater Mrs. Weasley had sent, Dobby looked quite overwhelmed.

"Sir is very kind!" he squeaked, his eyes brimming with tears again, bowing deeply to Ron. "Dobby knew sir must be a great wizard, for he is one of Harry Potter's and Miss Katrina's greatest friends, but Dobby did not know that he was also as generous of spirit, as noble, as selfless -"

"They're only socks," said Ron, who had gone slightly pink around the ears, though he looked rather pleased all the same. "Wow, Harry -" He had just opened Harry's present, a Chudley Cannon hat. "Cool!" He jammed it onto his head, where it clashed horribly with his hair.

Dobby now handed Harry and I two small packages, which turned out to be - socks.

"Dobby is making them himself!" the elf said happily. "He is buying the wool out of his wages!"

The left sock was bright red and had a pattern of golden dragons upon it; the right sock was green with a pattern of lions on it.

"They're...they're really...well, thanks, Dobby," said Harry, and he pulled them on, causing Dobby's eyes to leak with happiness again. I hugged the elf and thanked him with a wide grin and a kiss to the cheek.

"Dobby must go now, sir, miss, we is already making Christmas dinner in the kitchens!" said Dobby, and he hurried out of the dormitory, waving good-bye as he passed.

My other presents were much more satisfactory than Dobby's odd socks - not that I didn't love them. Hermione had given me a book called Dragons of Britain and Ireland; Ron, a bulging bag of Chocolate frogs and Bertie Botts Every Flavored Beans; Father, an ornate pocket knife that transformed into a handy quill with refilling ink; Hagrid, a vast box of sweets including Fizzing Whizbees, lemon drops, and caramel clusters. There was also, of course, Mrs. Weasley's usual package, including a new sweater (blue, with a picture of a gold dragon on it - I supposed Charlie had told her all about the King of Dragons), and a large quantity of homemade mince pies. Lastly, Harry - who had got me another amazing charm for my bracelet; a perfect rendition of my lion cub form with twinkling blue stones for the eyes.

 

"Oh, Harry, I love it!" I gushed as I stuck my arm out so that he could add it to the chain that never left my wrist. I kissed his cheek and hopped up to show Hermione, not noticing Harry's blushing face as we all went down to breakfast together.

We spent most of the morning in Gryffindor Tower, where everyone was enjoying their presents, then returned to the Great Hall for a magnificent lunch, which included at least a hundred turkeys and Christmas puddings, and large piles of Cribbage's Wizarding Crackers.

We went out onto the grounds in the afternoon; the snow was untouched except for the deep channels made by the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students on their way up to the castle. Hermione chose to watch our snowball fight rather than join in, and at five o'clock said dragged me over to the side saying that we had to go back upstairs to get ready for the ball.

"What, you need three hours?" said Ron, looking at her incredulously and paying for his lapse in concentration when a large snowball, thrown by George, hit him hard on the side of the head. "Who're you two going with?" he yelled after us, but we just waved and disappeared up the stone steps into the castle. We both showered and changed into our dresses and then sat down and did each other's hair and makeup.

Harry's POV

There was no Christmas tea today, as the ball included a feast, so at seven o'clock, when it had become hard to aim properly, we abandoned our snowball fight and trooped back to the common room. The Fat Lady was sitting in her frame with her friend Violet from downstairs, both of them extremely tipsy, empty boxes of chocolate liqueurs littering the bottom of her picture.

"Lairy fights, that's the one!" she giggled when we gave the password, and she swung forward to let us inside.

Ron, Seamus, Dean, Neville, and I changed into our dress robes up in our dormitory, all of us looking very self-conscious, but none as much as Ron, who surveyed himself in the long mirror in the corner with an appalled look on his face. There was just no getting around the fact that his robes looked more like a dress than anything else. In a desperate attempt to make them look more manly, he used a Severing Charm on the ruff and cuffs. It worked fairly well; at least he was now lace-free, although he hadn't done a very neat job, and the edges still looked depressingly frayed as the boys set off downstairs.

"I still can't work out how you two got the best-looking girls in the year," muttered Dean. "Besides Katrina of course. Man, I'd give anything to go out with her!"

"Animal magnetism," said Ron gloomily, pulling stray threads out of his cuffs while I gritted my teeth and Dean's words. For some reason, they set me on edge.

The common room looked strange, full of people wearing different colors instead of the usual mass of black. Parvati was waiting for me at the foot of the stairs. She looked very pretty indeed, in robes of shocking pink, with her long dark plait braided with gold, and gold bracelets glimmering at her wrists. I was relieved to see that she wasn't giggling.

"You - er - look nice," I said awkwardly, still wishing that I could have been taking Kat instead.

"Thanks," she said. "Padma's going to meet you in the entrance hall," she added to Ron.

"Right," said Ron, looking around. "Where's Hermione and Katrina?"

Parvati shrugged. "Shall we go down then, Harry?"

"Okay," I said, wishing I could just stay in the common room, but I also wanted to know who Katrina and Hermione were going with. Fred winked at me as he passed me on the way out of the portrait hole.

The entrance hall was packed with students too, all milling around waiting for eight o'clock, when the doors to the Great Hall would be thrown open. Those people who were meeting partners from different Houses were edging through the crowd trying to find one another. Parvati found her sister, Padma, and led her over to Ron and I.

"Hi," said Padma, who was looking just as pretty as Parvati in robes of bright turquoise. She didn't look too enthusiastic about having Ron as a partner, though; her dark eyes lingered on the frayed neck and sleeves of his dress robes as she looked him up and down.

"Hi," said Ron, not looking at her, but staring around at the crowd. "Oh no..."

He bent his knees slightly to hide behind me, because Fleur Delacour was passing, looking stunning in robes of silver-gray satin, and accompanied by the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, Roger Davies. When they had disappeared, Ron stood straight again and stared over the heads of the crowd.

"Where is Hermione?" he said again. Where was Kat for that matter?!

A group of Slytherins came up the steps from their dungeon common room. Malfoy was in front; he was wearing dress robes of black velvet with a high collar, which in my opinion made him look like a vicar; holding onto his arm was the most gorgeous girl I had ever seen, though I had no clue who she was. I could only assume she was from Beauxbatons because there is no way I would not have known her if she was from Hogwarts! She was wearing a stunning dress of deep emerald green that just so happened to match my own dress robes. Crabbe and Goyle were both wearing green as well; they resembled moss-colored boulders, and neither of them, I was pleased to see, had managed to find a partner.

The oak front doors opened, and everyone turned to look as the Durmstrang students entered with Professor Karkaroff. Krum was at the front of the party, accompanied by another pretty girl in blue robes I didn't know. Over their heads I saw that an area of lawn right in front of the castle had been transformed into a sort of grotto full of fairy lights - meaning hundreds of actual living fairies were sitting in the rosebushes that had been conjured there, and fluttering over the statues of what seemed to be Father Christmas and his reindeer.

Then Professor McGonagall's voice called, "Champions over here, please!"

Parvati readjusted her bangles, beaming; we said, "See you in a minute" to Ron and Padma and walked forward, the chattering crowd parting to let us through. Professor McGonagall, who was wearing dress robes of red tartan and had arranged a rather ugly wreath of thistles around the brim of her hat, told us to wait on one side of the doors while everyone else went inside; we were to enter the Great Hall in procession when the rest of the students had sat down.

Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies stationed themselves nearest the doors; Davies looked so stunned by his good fortune in having Fleur for a partner that he could hardly take his eyes off her. Cedric and Cho were close to me too; he looked away from us so he wouldn't have to talk to us. He was staring at someone and I looked over to see that he was staring at Malfoy and the girl who was wrapped around him. My jaw dropped.

It was Katrina! I hadn't gotten a good look at her face when she and Malfoy had first entered but there was no mistaking her angelic features now that she was closer. I couldn't keep my eyes off her as my eyes widened in astonishment. I had always thought that she was beautiful but this...this was something else...

But how could she be going with Malfoy of all people! Malfoy! That slimy git! I just wanted to rip his arms off her - how dare he wrap his arms around her like that! That was my job! My hands clenched tightly into fists as I looked away, unable to stand the sight of Malfoy's grimy paws all over her any longer. My eyes widened again as I looked at the girl standing next to Krum. It was Hermione.

But she didn't look like Hermione at all. She had done something with her hair; it was no longer bushy but sleek and shiny, and twisted up into an elegant knot at the back of her head. She was wearing robes made of a floaty, periwinkle-blue material, and she was holding herself differently, somehow - or maybe it was merely the absence of the twenty or so books she usually had slung over her back. She was also smiling - rather nervously, it was true - but the reduction in the size of her front teeth was more noticeable than ever; I couldn't understand how I hadn't spotted it before.

"Hi, Harry!" she and Katrina said. "Hi, Parvati!" I couldn't look at Katrina or Malfoy as they stood right in front of me. This was so wrong on so many levels!

Parvati was gazing at Hermione and Katrina in unflattering disbelief. She wasn't the only one either; when the doors to the Great Hall opened, Krum's fan club from the library stalked past, throwing Hermione looks of deepest loathing and Pansy Parkinson gaped at Katrina as she walked by Malfoy, and even she didn't seem to be able to find an insult to throw at her. Ron, however, walked right past Hermione and Katrina without looking at them.

Once everyone else was settled in the Hall, Professor McGonagall told us champions and our partners to get in line in pairs and to follow her. We did so, and everyone in the Great Hall applauded as we entered and started walking up toward a large round table at the top of the Hall, where the judges were sitting.

The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.

Katrina's POV

I concentrated on not tripping over my feet as Draco lead me up to my seat. These stupid heels looked great but were hard to walk in!

Grandfather smiled happily as we champions approached the top table, but Karkaroff wore an expression remarkably like Ron's as he watched Krum and Hermione draw nearer. Ludo Bagman, tonight in robes of bright purple with large yellow stars, was clapping as enthusiastically as any of the students; and Madame Maxime, who had changed her usual uniform of black satin for a flowing gown of lavender silk, was applauding them politely. But Mr. Crouch, I suddenly realized, was not there. The fifth seat at the table was occupied by Percy Weasley.

When we reached the table, Percy drew out the empty chair, staring pointedly at Harry. I considered myself lucky as Draco pulled my seat out for me and I sat down next to him. On my other side was Hermione and Krum.

There was no food as yet on the glittering golden plates, but small menus were lying in front of each of us. I picked mine up uncertainly and looked around - there were no waiters. Grandfather, however, looked carefully down at his own menu, then said very clearly to his plate, "Pork chops!"

And pork chops appeared. Getting the idea, the rest of the table placed their orders with their plates too. I glanced over at Hermione to see how she felt about this new and more complicated method of dining - surely it meant plenty of extra work for the house-elves? - but for once, Hermione didn't seem to be thinking about S.P.E.W. She was deep in talk with Viktor Krum and hardly seemed to notice what she was eating.

"Veil, ve have a castle also, not as big as this, nor as comfortable, I am thinking," he was telling Hermione. "Ve have just four floors, and the fires are lit only for magical purposes. But ve have grounds larger even than these - though in vinter, ve have very little daylight, so ve are not enjoying them. But in summer ve are flying every day, over the lakes and the mountains -"

"Now, now, Viktor!" said Karkaroff with a laugh that didn't reach his cold eyes, "don't go giving away anything else, now, or your charming friends will know exactly where to find us!"

Grandfather smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Igor, all this secrecy, one would almost think you didn't want visitors."

"Well, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, displaying his yellowing teeth to their fullest extent, "we are all protective of our private domains, are we not? Do we not jealously guard the halls of learning that have been entrusted to us? Are we not right to be proud that we alone know our school's secrets, and right to protect them?"

"Oh I would never dream of assuming I know all Hogwarts' secrets, Igor," said Grandfather amicably. "Only this morning, for instance, I took a wrong turning on the way to the bathroom and found myself in a beautifully proportioned room I have never seen before, containing a really rather magnificent collection of chamber pots. When I went back to investigate more closely, I discovered that the room had vanished. But I must keep an eye out for it. Possibly it is only accessible at five-thirty in the morning. Or it may only appear at the quarter moon - or when the seeker has an exceptionally full bladder."

I couldn't help but laugh and could have sworn Grandfather had given me a very small wink.

Meanwhile Fleur Delacour was criticizing the Hogwarts decorations to Roger Davies.

"Zis is nothing," she said dismissively, looking around at the sparkling walls of the Great Hall. "At ze Palace of Beauxbatons, we 'ave ice sculptures all around ze dining chamber at Chreestmas. Zey do not melt, of course...zey are like 'uge statues of diamond, glittering around ze place. And ze food is seemply superb. And we 'ave choirs of wood nymphs, 'oo serenade us as we eat. We 'ave none of zis ugly armor in ze 'alls, and eef a poltergeist ever entaired into Beauxbatons, 'e would be expelled like zat." She slapped her hand onto the table impatiently.

Roger Davies was watching her talk with a very dazed look on his face, and he kept missing his mouth with his fork. I had the impression that Davies was too busy staring at Fleur to take in a word she was saying. Ugh, boys.

"Absolutely right," he said quickly, slapping his own hand down on the table in imitation of Fleur. "Like that. Yeah."

I looked around the Hall. Hagrid was sitting at one of the other staff tables; he was back in his horrible hairy brown suit and gazing up at the top table. I saw him give a small wave, and looking around, saw Madame Maxime return it, her opals glittering in the candlelight.

Hermione was now teaching Krum to say her name properly; he kept calling her "Hermy-own."

"Her-my-oh-nee," she said slowly and clearly.

"Herm-own-ninny."

"Close enough," she said, catching Harry's eye and grinning. Then she looked over at me and rolled her eyes. I on the other hand was too busy trying not to choke on my food as it went down the wrong pipe when I heard Krum's horrible butchering of my friend's name. Draco patted me on the back as he handed me a glass of water.

"Thanks!" I said gratefully.

"Of course, you look absolutely stunning by the way, princess."

"And you look very dashing," I said back as I blushed. His legs were up against mine and he had reached down and placed a hand over one of my legs. I gulped as he started tracing light-feathered patterns across my skin. How was a gal supposed to focus on eating with him doing that!

I looked for something to distract myself with and noticed Harry staring at Draco's hand under the table and blushed.

When all the food had been consumed, Grandfather stood up and asked the students to do the same. Then, with a wave of his wand, all the tables zoomed back along the walls leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello, and some bagpipes were set upon it.

Draco held his hand out for me as he helped me up from thee table. "Care to make me the luckiest guy in the room by dancing with me?" He said with a smirk and a bow. I just giggled, blushed some more, and followed him onto the dance floor; feeling Harry's eyes on me the entire time as the music started. But I didn't care, all I saw was Draco. He looked so handsome, no...sexy...I still couldn't believe he had asked me of all people to go with him!

Harry's POV

The Weird Sisters now trooped up onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause; they were all extremely hairy and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. They picked up their instruments, and I, who had been so interested in watching them that I had almost forgotten what was coming, suddenly realized that the lanterns on all the other tables had gone out, and that the other champions and their partners were standing up.

"Come on!" Parvati hissed. "We're supposed to dance!"

I tripped over my dress robes as I stood up; I was so focused on watching Katrina that I forgot to pay attention to where I was going. The Weird Sisters struck up a slow, mournful tune; I walked onto the brightly lit dance floor, carefully avoiding catching anyone's eye (I could see Seamus and Dean waving at me and sniggering), and next moment, Parvati had seized my hands, placed one around her waist, and was holding the other tightly in hers. I just continued to glare over at Malfoy who was in the same position with Kat.

It wasn't as bad as it could have been. I thought, revolving slowly on the spot (Parvati was steering). Though I still couldn't keep my eyes off of Katrina. She glowed brilliantly and her smile was a dazzle of bright light and her laugh rang out like bells as Malfoy twirled her around the room.

"Nice socks. Potter," Moody growled as he passed, his magical eye staring through my robes.

"Oh - yeah, Dobby the house-elf knitted them for me," I said, grinning. "He made a pair for Katrina as well."

"He is so creepy!" Parvati whispered as Moody clunked away. "I don't think that eye should be allowed."

I heard the final, quavering note from the bagpipe and sighed with relief as I watched Malfoy reluctantly release Kat from his grip. The Weird Sisters stopped playing, applause filled the hall once more, and I let go of Parvati at once.

"Let's sit down, shall we?"

"Oh - but - this is a really good one!" Parvati said as the Weird Sisters struck up a new song, which was much faster.

"No, I don't like it," I lied, and I led her away from the dance floor, past Fred and Angelina, who were dancing so exhuberantly that people around them were backing away in fear of injury, and over to the table where Ron and Padma were sitting.

"How's it going?" I asked Ron, sitting down and opening a bottle of butterbeer.

Ron didn't answer. He was glaring at Hermione and Krum, who were dancing nearby. Padma was sitting with her arms and legs crossed, one foot jiggling in time to the music. Every now and then she threw a disgruntled look at Ron, who was completely ignoring her. Parvati sat down on my other side, crossed her arms and legs too, and within minutes was asked to dance by a boy from Beauxbatons.

"You don't mind, do you, Harry?" Parvati said.

"What?" I said, now watching Kat and Draco again.

"Oh never mind," snapped Parvati, and she went off with the boy from Beauxbatons. When the song ended, she did not return.

Hermione and Kat came over and sat down. They were both pink in the face from dancing.

"Hi," I grumbled. Ron didn't say anything.

"It's hot, isn't it?" said Hermione, fanning herself with her hand. "Viktor and Draco have just gone to get some drinks."

Ron gave her a withering look. "Viktor?" he said. "Hasn't he asked you to call him Vicky yet?"

Hermione and Kat looked at him in surprise. "What's up with you?" they asked.

"If you don't know," said Ron scathingly, "I'm not going to tell you."

Hermione stared at him, and Katrina looked over at me in confusion but I just glared at her glumly. How could she have chosen Malfoy over me. What did he have to offer other than insults!

"Ron, what -?"

"He's from Durmstrang!" spat Ron. "He's competing against Harry and Katrina! Against Hogwarts! You - you're -" Ron was obviously casting around for words strong enough to describe Hermione's crime, "fraternizing with the enemy, that's what you're doing!"

Hermione's mouth fell open.

"Don't be so stupid!" she said after a moment. "The enemy! Honestly - who was the one who was all excited when they saw him arrive? Who was the one who wanted his autograph? Who's got a model of him up in their dormitory?"

Ron chose to ignore this. "I s'pose he asked you to come with him while you were both in the library?"

"Yes, he did," said Hermione, the pink patches on her cheeks glowing more brightly. "So what?"

"What happened - trying to get him to join spew, were you?"

"No, I wasn't! If you really want to know, he - he said he'd been coming up to the library every day to try and talk to me, but he hadn't been able to pluck up the courage!"

Hermione said this very quickly, and blushed so deeply that she was the same color as Parvati's robes.

"Yeah, well - that's his story," said Ron nastily.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Obvious, isn't it? He's Karkaroff's student, isn't he? He knows who you hang around with....He's just trying to get closer to Harry and Katrina - get inside information on them - or get near enough to jinx him -"

Hermione looked as though Ron had slapped her. When she spoke, her voice quivered.

"For your information, he hasn't asked me one single thing about Harry or Katrina, not one -"

Ron changed tack at the speed of light.

"Then he's hoping you'll help him find out what his egg means! I suppose you've been putting your heads together during those cozy little library sessions -"

"I'd never help him work out that egg!" said Hermione, looking outraged. "Never. How could you say something like that - I want Harry and Katrina to win the tournament. They know that, don't you?" Katrina nodded emphatically as she glared at Ron.

"You've got a funny way of showing it," sneered Ron. "And Katrina, seriously, Draco Malfoy? What the hell are you thinking! You're supposed to be Harry's friend. How could you go out with his arch enemy?!"

"This whole tournament's supposed to be about getting to know foreign wizards and making friends with them!" said Hermione hotly.

"Honestly, Ron, arch enemies? We are in school no one has arch enemies and even if Harry did, it wouldn't be Draco. If anyone is Harry's arch foe it is Voldemort. And Harry isn't as shallow as you are being right now! You don't hear him complaining! He doesn't care that I'm with Draco! Right, Harry?" She turned to look at me for confirmation but I just stared at her.

"Right?" she asked less confidently. I got up and pulled her away from Ron. I couldn't keep this too myself anymore. I was going to burst if I didn't tell her.

"Harry, what's going on?" she said slowly as I dragged her over to a quiet corner by the bushes of fairy lights.

"Look, I can't lie to you Kat. I hate seeing you with Draco because -"

"What why! Harry, how many times do I have to tell you he isn't as bad as people think. There's more to him than you think! You have no idea what his life is like. I mean growing up with his parents it's amazing that he's made it this far not to mention if you didn't want me going with someone than you should have asked me yourself, and not as a -" before she could continue any further I leant forward and placed my lips against hers. At first it was put of desperation but as I felt her soft lips against mine it became much more than that. I poured all of my pent up emotion into the kiss; everything I had been dying to tell her for years but couldn't.

When I finally pulled away her eyes were wide in shock. There was still something that seemed foggy about them but as we stood there staring at each other the fog seemed to be disappearing.

"That's why I don't want you with Draco...and I was going to ask you but every time I did, some other guy would interrupt me and ask you themselves..." I mumbled self-consciously and I brushed a hand through my hair.

"H-Harry? I -" she started to say but then something behind me caught her attention and I watched as her eyes seemed to glaze over again.

"There you are, Kat! I've been looking all over for you!" Malfoy said from behind me. "Here, let's go find somewhere to sit down," and before I had the chance to register what was happening, he had swooped over to Kat and lead her away back into the Great Hall.

"Are you going to ask me to dance at all?" I heard Padma ask Ron as I went over to them and sat back down dejectedly.

"No," said Ron, still glaring after Hermione.

"Fine," snapped Padma, and she got up and went to join Parvati and the Beauxbatons boy, who conjured up one of his friends to join them so fast that I could have sworn he had zoomed him there by a Summoning Charm.

"Vare is Herm-own-ninny?" said a voice.

Krum had just arrived at our table clutching two butterbeers.

"No idea," said Ron mulishly, looking up at him. "Lost her, have you?"

Krum was looking surly again.

"Veil, if you see her, tell her I haff drinks," he said, and he slouched off.

"Made friends with Viktor Krum, have you, Ron?"

Percy had bustled over, rubbing his hands together and looking extremely pompous. "Excellent! That's the whole point, you know - international magical cooperation!"

To my displeasure, Percy now took Padma's vacated seat. The top table was now empty; Professor Dumbledore was dancing with Professor Sprout, Ludo Bagman with Professor McGonagall; Madame Maxime and Hagrid were cutting a wide path around the dance floor as they waltzed through the students, and Karkaroff was nowhere to be seen. When the next song ended, everybody applauded once more, and I saw Ludo Bagman kiss Professor McGonagall's hand and make his way back through the crowds, at which point Fred and George accosted him.

"What do they think they're doing, annoying senior Ministry members?" Percy hissed, watching Fred and George suspiciously. "No respect..."

Ludo Bagman shook off Fred and George fairly quickly, however, and, spotting me, waved and came over to our table.

"I hope my brothers weren't bothering you, Mr. Bagman?" said Percy at once.

"What? Oh not at all, not at all!" said Bagman. "No, they were just telling me a bit more about those fake wands of theirs. Wondering if I could advise them on the marketing. I've promised to put them in touch with a couple of contacts of mine at Zonko's Joke Shop...."

Percy didn't look happy about this at all, and I was prepared to bet he would be rushing to tell Mrs. Weasley about this the moment he got home. Apparently Fred and George's plans had grown even more ambitious lately, if they were hoping to sell to the public. Bagman opened his mouth to ask me something, but Percy diverted him.

"How do you feel the tournament's going, Mr. Bagman? Our department's quite satisfied - the hitch with the Goblet of Fire" - he glanced at me - "was a little unfortunate, of course, but it seems to have gone very smoothly since, don't you think?"

"Oh yes," Bagman said cheerfully, "it's all been enormous fun. How's old Barty doing? Shame he couldn't come."

"Oh I'm sure Mr. Crouch will be up and about in no time," said Percy importantly, "but in the meantime, I'm more than willing to take up the slack. Of course, it's not all attending balls" - he laughed airily - "oh no, I've had to deal with all sorts of things that have cropped up in his absence - you heard Ali Bashir was caught smuggling a consignment of flying carpets into the country? And then we've been trying to persuade the Transylvanians to sign the International Ban on Dueling. I've got a meeting with their Head of Magical Cooperation in the new year -"

"Let's go for a walk," Ron muttered to me, "get away from Percy...."

Pretending we wanted more drinks. Ron and I left the table, edged around the dance floor, and slipped out into the entrance hall. The front doors stood open, and the fluttering fairy lights in the rose garden winked and twinkled as we went down the front steps, where we found ourselves surrounded by bushes; winding, ornamental paths; and large stone statues. I could hear splashing water, which sounded like a fountain. Here and there, people were sitting on carved benches. Ron and I set off along one of the winding paths through the rosebushes, but we had gone only a short way when we heard an unpleasantly familiar voice.

"...don't see what there is to fuss about, Igor."

"Severus, you cannot pretend this isn't happening!" Karkaroffs voice sounded anxious and hushed, as though keen not to be overheard. "It's been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can't deny it -"

"Then flee," said Snape's voice curtly. "Flee - I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts."

Snape and Karkaroff came around the corner. Snape had his wand out and was blasting rosebushes apart, his expression most ill-natured. Squeals issued from many of the bushes, and dark shapes emerged from them.

"Ten points from Ravenclaw, Fawcett!" Snape snarled as a girl ran past him. "And ten points from Hufflepuff too, Stebbins!" as a boy went rushing after her. "And what are you two doing?" he added, catching sight of Ron and I on the path ahead. Karkaroff, I saw, looked slightly discomposed to see us standing there. His hand went nervously to his goatee, and he began winding it around his finger.

"We're walking," Ron told Snape shortly. "Not against the law, is it?"

"Keep walking, then!" Snape snarled, and he brushed past us, his long black cloak billowing out behind him. Karkaroff hurried away after Snape. Ron and I continued down the path.

"What's got Karkaroff all worried?" Ron muttered.

"And since when have he and Snape been on first-name terms?" I said slowly.

We had reached a large stone reindeer now, over which we could see the sparkling jets of a tall fountain. The shadowy outlines of two enormous people were visible on a stone bench, watching the water in the moonlight. And then I heard Hagrid speak.

Katrina's POV

"Where are you taking me?" I giggled as Draco dragged me out towards the outside path lined with fairy lights.

"I just think we could use some alone time," he answered as he pulled me over to a bench and positioned us in such a way that I was sitting in his lap with my arms around his neck.

I giggled and blushed as he started kissing me again. His kisses were like fire - spreading throughout my body and warming me down to my toes. We continued to stay where we were and our kisses became so passionate I could barely stand it. I never wanted to stop. Not a second later I found myself being roughly yanked out of his arms. I stared at Harry in confusion as he and Ron started yelling at Draco. Nothing was making any sense. And then Harry's lips pressed against mine for a second time that night and his words washed over me and I stared from him to Draco in horror as realization dawned on me.

Harry's POV

It was after we were attempting to leave Hagrid and Madame Maxime that I notice two people sitting on a bench out of the corner of my eye. I paused as I recognized the girl's dress. I nudged Ron and pointed over towards the two bodies intertwined around one another.

"Ugh, what does she see in him? I never would have though Kat would voluntarily get together with that git."

At Ron's words I froze as a horrible thought entered my brain. I stared at Ron in horror.

"Wait, Ron! What if she isn't with him of her own choosing!" Ron stared at me blankly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, she has this glazed expression on her face whenever he's around her and she's completely ignoring all of his flaws and acting like some love sick puppy! What if he spelled her or something?"

Ron frowned in disgust and said, "I'm gonna kill that dirty little ferret."

"You'll have to get in line," I declared furiously as I stormed over to the two and tugged Kat out of Malfoy's grip. She looked at me in confusion but again, there was that glazed look in her eyes and I had no doubt that I was right. Malfoy had done something to her.

Ron and I started yelling at Malfoy as Kat stood there with a blank expression on her face. How could he do something so vile and just...just plain wrong! I was too furious to comprehend anything that he said back to us. There was nothing he had to say that I wanted to hear. I glanced over at Kat again. How were we going to get her back to her normal self?

And then I remembered earlier when her eyes had appeared to clear up and I acted without thinking. As our lips met I felt a wave of energy wash over us and when I broke off to look in her eyes they were the normal crystal clear blue that I loved so much.

"Harry? Ron? W-what's going on? She said confused as she glanced back and forth between us and Draco.

"Malfoy put a love spell or potion or something on you!" Ron burst out angrily. Well, way to explain the situation with tact, Ron!

"You did what, Draco?!" Kat rounded on Malfoy, her eyes flashing with anger.

"It, it was Blaise's idea, okay! He was pissed off that you said no to him and he knew I liked you and there was no way you were going to say yes to me so I agreed because I really like you and I didn't stand a chance!" Malfoy rambled, fear in his eyes as Kat stalked over to him.

"Don't you dare make excuses for what you did, Draco! No one made you ip me a love potion! You chose to listen to Blaise. If you had just asked me I would have said yes, but now I want absolutely nothing to do with you, do you hear me? Leave me the hell alone. I don't want to see you let alone speak to you ever again! You ruined everything!" With that, she stormed off towards the castle, tears streaming down her face. I made to go after her but Ron stopped me.

"Leave it, mate. This is probably a Hermione moment." We went back in to the Great Hall in search of her and found her talking animatedly to Krum. Ron looked displeased by this but ignored it for the sake of retelling the events that had just transpired.

"Oh, my, Merlin, Malfoy did what!" She exclaimed after we finished telling her what happened. "I have to go talk to her, I'm so sorry, Viktor! I've had a great time tonight, but my friend needs me right now!" Krum nodded in understanding and kissed her hand before bowing and leaving. Hermione looked at us one last time before dashing out of the room.

Ron and I went to follow her, but halfway up the staircase I heard someone calling me.

"Hey-Harry!"

It was Cedric Diggory. I could see Cho waiting for him in the entrance hall below.

"Yeah?" I said as Cedric ran up the stairs toward me.

Cedric looked as though he didn't want to say whatever it was in front of Ron, who shrugged, looking bad-tempered, and continued to climb the stairs.

"Listen..." Cedric lowered his voice as Ron disappeared. "I owe you and Kat one for telling me about the dragons. You know those golden eggs? Does yours wail when you open it?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Well...take a bath, okay?"

"What?"

"Take a bath, and - er - take the eggs with you, and - er - just mull things over in the hot water. It'll help you two think....Trust me."

I stared at him.

"Tell you what," Cedric said, "use the prefects' bathroom. Fourth door to the left of that statue of Boris the Bewildered on the fifth floor. Password's 'pine fresh.' Gotta go...want to say good night -"

He grinned at me again and hurried back down the stairs to Cho.

I walked back to Gryffindor Tower alone. That had been extremely strange advice. Why would a bath help Kat and I to work out what the wailing egg meant? Was Cedric pulling my leg? Was he trying to make me like a fool, so Cho would like him even more by comparison?

The Fat Lady and her friend Vi were snoozing in the picture over the portrait hole. I had to yell "Fairy lights!" before I woke them up, and when I did, they were extremely irritated. I climbed into the common room and found Fred and George standing in the middle with shocked looks on their faces.

"Hey, Harry! Do you know what's wrong with Katrina? She just ran through her into Hermione's room crying and then Hermione came running after her. What the hell happened?

I grumbled angrily as I paced back and forth in front of the fire and angrily told then what Malfoy had done.

"Those little -"

"- twits!"

"Someone needs to teach those guttersnipes not to mess with our little princess. Whatdya say, Georgy? How are we going to get back at those buffoons?"

We sat in front of the fireplace contemplating all the different things that we might be able to do to get back at Malfoy and Blaise.

********************************************

In-line Comment

\- Let me know what your thoughts are on this latest chapter! Hope you liked it!  
\- Mini contest to see if anyone can come up with a good revenge idea for me. If I end up unable to think of anything original than I will dedicate the chapter to whoever has an idea that I think would be fitting.


	82. Rita Skeeter’s Scoop

Katrina's POV

I stayed the night with Hermione. After crying all the water in my body out, I just didn't have the energy to move. Thankfully everyone got up late on Boxing Day. The Gryffindor common room was much quieter than it had been lately, many yawns punctuating the lazy conversations and I sat with my friends with my head held low.

Ron and Hermione seemed to have reached an unspoken agreement not to discuss their argument. They were being quite friendly to each other, though oddly formal. Ron and Harry wasted no time in telling Hermione about the conversation they had overheard between Madame Maxime and Hagrid, but neither Hermione or I found the news that Hagrid was a half-giant nearly as shocking as Ron did.

"Well, we thought he must be," she said, shrugging. "We knew he couldn't be pure giant because they're about twenty feet tall. But honestly, all this hysteria about giants. They can't all be horrible...It's the same sort of prejudice that people have toward werewolves...It's just bigotry, isn't it?"

Ron looked as though he would have liked to reply scathingly, but perhaps he didn't want another row, because he contented himself with shaking his head disbelievingly while Hermione wasn't looking.

It was time now to think of the homework we had neglected during the first week of the holidays. Everybody seemed to be feeling rather flat now that Christmas was over - everybody except Harry, and I, that is, who were starting (once again) to feel slightly nervous.

The trouble was that February the twenty-fourth looked a lot closer from this side of Christmas, and we still hadn't done anything about working out the clue inside the golden egg. We therefore started taking the eggs out every chance we got, opening them, and listening intently, hoping that this time it would make some sense. I strained to think what the sound reminded me of, apart from thirty musical saws, but I had never heard anything else like it. Thankfully, with all our attention focused on the eggs, Harry didn't have time to plot revenge on Malfoy; though I had my own plan in the works. I had gone up to Fred and George and demanded that they stay out of my way and let me handle things and they had begrudgingly agreed to do so after so arguing. I smiled as I went over the details in my head. Everything was all set, all there was left to do, was wait till the time came.

I closed my egg, shook it vigorously, and opened it again to see if the sound had changed, but it hadn't. Harry and I tried asking the eggs questions, shouting over all the wailing, but nothing happened. Harry even threw his egg across the room - though I hadn't really expected that to help.

Harry and I had not forgotten the hint that Cedric had given us, but Harry's less-than-friendly feelings toward Cedric just now meant that he was keen not to take his help if he could avoid it and I didn't want to test our rocky relationship anymore than it needed to be. With everything that had happened at the Yule Ball and then the need to focus on the eggs, we hadn't had any time to discuss the fact that he, Harry, had kissed me! Not once...but twice! What did that mean for us! Had he done it because maybe just maybe he returned my feelings or was it just because he wanted to break Malfoy's hold on me?

********************************************

And so the first day of the new term arrived, and I went down to breakfast in high spirits as I eagerly awaited the fruits of my labor. Hermione, who I had told my plan to, sat next to me snickering in anticipation. Every time someone entered and sat down at the Slytherin table we would look up - but it wasn't until breakfast was almost over that the main event finally arrived.

I was drinking pumpkin juice when my eyes landed on a sight for sore eyes and I could help but spit my drink out as I bent over in laughter. In fact, the entire student population, and a number of the teachers were as well once they spotted the pair of idiots as well.

Draco and Blaise glumly sat down with their heads hung low as they tried to avoid the eyes of their fellow students but it was to no success. 

"Katrina! What did you DO!" Fred, George, Harry, and Ron burst out when they finally managed to control their laughter.

"For that matter, HOW did you do it?!" Fred and George asked. Just then, Peeves and the Bloody Baron swooped over to me and I gave them mock high fives as I grinned at my friends and silently thanked the ghosts. 

I smiled as I looked over at Malfoy and Blaise whose robes had been permanently died red and gold and were sporting red/gold hairdos as well. The left side was fiery red while the left was a brilliant shiny gold. 

"I had Peeves and the Bloody Baron and some of the house elves help me sneak down into their rooms and we permanently died every piece of clothing they own and colored their hair while they were sleeping!" I said as I happily finished my bacon and eggs. I looked over to the high table and smirked as I saw Minnie, Sev, and grandfather all doing their best; and failing miserably, to control their own reactions to my spot of mischief. 

"They'll have to dress like that until they can order new clothes - only wish I could be a fly on the wall when they tell their parents exactly why they need entirely new wardrobes!" This sent us all into a new fit of laughter which didn't stop until we headed off to classes.

Snow was still thick upon the grounds, and the greenhouse windows were covered in condensation so thick that we couldn't see out of them in Herbology. Nobody was looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures much in this weather, though as Ron said, the skrewts would probably warm us up nicely, either by chasing us, or blasting off so forcefully that Hagrid's cabin would catch fire. I was just glad that I was allowed to take Drake with me wherever I went now so he was currently curled up around the back of my neck and was helping calm my nerves at having to see Malfoy again. Though thankfully, he and Blaise were being strangely quiet today; though why, I had no idea (:p)!

When we arrived at Hagrid 's cabin, however, we found an elderly witch with closely cropped gray hair and a very prominent chin standing before his front door.

"Hurry up, now, the bell rang five minutes ago," she barked at us as we struggled toward her through the snow.

"Who're you?" said Ron, staring at her. "Where's Hagrid?"

"My name is Professor Grubbly-Plank," she said briskly. "I am your temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher."

"Where's Hagrid?" Harry and I repeated loudly.

"He is indisposed," said Professor Grubbly-Plank shortly.

"This way, please," said Professor Grubbly-Plank, and she strode off around the paddock where the Beauxbatons horses were shivering. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I followed her, looking back over their shoulders at Hagrid's cabin. All the curtains were closed. Was Hagrid in there, alone and ill?

"What's wrong with Hagrid?" Harry and I said, hurrying to catch up with Professor Grubbly-Plank. Drake flicked his tail back and forth so as to massage my neck and whispered in my mind that Hagrid was fine but I wanted confirmation.

"Never you mind," she said as though she thought we were being nosy.

"We do mind, though," said Harry hotly. "What's up with him?"

Professor Grubbly-Plank acted as though she couldn't hear us. She led us past the paddock where the huge Beauxbatons horses were standing, huddled against the cold, and toward a tree on the edge of the forest, where a large and beautiful unicorn was tethered.

Many of the girls "ooooohed!" at the sight of the unicorn.

"Oh it's so beautiful!" whispered Lavender Brown. "How did she get it? They're supposed to be really hard to catch!"

The unicorn was so brightly white it made the snow all around look gray. It was pawing the ground nervously with its golden hooves and throwing back its horned head.

"Boys keep back!" barked Professor Grubbly-Plank, throwing out an arm and catching Harry hard in the chest. "They prefer the woman's touch, unicorns. Girls to the front, and approach with care, come on, easy does it...."

I walked slowly forward toward the unicorn, along with the other girls, leaving the boys standing near the paddock fence, watching. The moment Professor Grubbly-Plank was out of earshot. I approached slowly, worrying that Drake might scare the unicorn but he seemed to be talking to her and calming her down and suddenly she stuck her snout out towards me and butted my hand. I laughed and started stroking her and scratching her snout like I knew Drake liked and it seemed so did she. I could see Harry, Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville reading something out of the corner of my eye and my heart sank as I saw the scowls on their faces. After my turn with the unicorn was over, I ran over and read the paper as well.

It was an article topped with a picture of Hagrid looking extremely shifty.

DUMBLEDORE'S GIANT MISTAKE

Albus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. In September of this year, he hired Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror, to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Moody's well-known habit of attacking anybody who makes a sudden movement in his presence. Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly when set beside the part-human Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures.

Rubeus Hagrid, who admits to being expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, has enjoyed the position of gamekeeper at the school ever since, a job secured for him by Dumbledore. Last year, however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over the headmaster to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher, over the heads of many better-qualified candidates. 

An alarmingly large and ferocious-looking man, Hagrid has been using his newfound authority to terrify the students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons that many admit to being "very frightening."

'My friend was attacked by a hippogriff, and my other friend Vincent Crabbe got a bad bite off a flobberworm," says Draco Malfoy, a fourth-year student. "We all hate Hagrid, but we're just too scared to say anything." ...

The article continued on for several lengthy paragraphs describing Hagrid and his parentage and by the time I had finished reading it I was growling again under my breath and my fists were flaming. 

"How did she find out?" I whispered.

But that wasn't what was bothering Harry and I.

"What d'you mean, 'we all hate Hagrid'?" I spat at Malfoy. "What's this rubbish about him" - I pointed at Crabbe - "getting a bad bite off a flobberworm? They haven't even got teeth!"

Crabbe was sniggering, apparently very pleased with himself. I stepped closer to him and raised my hand up to his eyes so he could see the fireball that was forming in my palm. "You have something to say, Crabbe? Feel free to say it but just know that if I don't like it, you and Goyle's wardrobes will be matching Draco's and Blaise's so for once in your life I'd suggest you think a little before you open your foul-smelling mouth!" Crabbe and Goyle backed away; tripping over their feet as the stared at me in horror. I smiled and went to extinguish my fireball when I realized that I wasn't flame colored like normal, in fact, it looked blue? I brought my hand to my face and squinted at it and to my surprise, it was made out of a mix of water and ice! I blinked rapidly as I lost control of it and my hand was drenched in icy water - though a part of me noticed that my hand and arm stayed completely dry. 

Did you know I could do this? I asked Drake, he had rapidly become my expert on any weird magic since I guess Dragon's were born with innate knowledge of magic etc. I still didn't really understand that part of him.

Well, no not really, but I'm not that surprised. Your grandfather did say it was possible you might be able to control more than just the element of fire afterall. Let's worry about this later. Your teacher is looking at us.

"Are you paying attention over there?"

Professor Grubbly-Planks voice carried over to us. Harry was so angry that I could see the Daily Prophet article shook in his hands as he turned to stare unseeingly at the unicorn, whose many magical properties Professor Grubbly-Plank was now enumerating in a loud voice, so that the boys could hear too.

"I hope she stays, that woman!" said Parvati Patil when the lesson had ended and we were all heading back to the castle for lunch. "That's more what I thought Care of Magical Creatures would be like...proper creatures like unicorns, not monsters..."

"What about Hagrid?" Harry said angrily as we went up the steps.

"What about him?" said Parvati in a hard voice. "He can still be gamekeeper, can't he?" I grimaced but kept my cool; understanding that her tone was less directed at Hagrid than it was at Harry.

Parvati had been very cool toward Harry since the ball. I told him he ought to have paid her a bit more attention, but she seemed to have had a good time all the same. She was certainly telling anybody who would listen that she had made arrangements to meet the boy from Beauxbatons in Hogsmeade on the next weekend trip.

"That was a really good lesson," said Hermione as we entered the Great Hall. "I didn't know half the things Professor Grubbly-Plank told us about uni -"

"Look at this!" Harry snarled, and he shoved the Daily Prophet article under Hermione's nose.

Hermione's mouth fell open as she read. Her reaction was exactly the same as mine and Ron's.

"How did that horrible Skeeter woman find out? You don't think Hagrid told her?"

"No," said Harry, leading the way over to the Gryffindor table and throwing himself into a chair, furious. "He never even told us, did he? I reckon she was so mad he wouldn't give her loads of horrible stuff about me, she went ferreting around to get him back."

"Maybe she heard him telling Madame Maxime at the ball," said Hermione quietly.

"We'd have seen her in the garden!" said Ron. "Anyway, she's not supposed to come into school anymore, Hagrid said Dumbledore banned her..."

"Maybe she's got an Invisibility Cloak," said Harry, ladling chicken casserole onto his plate and splashing it everywhere in his anger. "Sort of thing she'd do, isn't it, hide in bushes listening to people."

"Like you and Ron did, you mean," I said.

"We weren't trying to hear him!" said Ron indignantly. "We didn't have any choice! The stupid prat, talking about his giantess mother where anyone could have heard him!"

"We've got to go and see him," said Harry. "This evening, after Divination. Tell him we want him back...you do want him back?" he shot at Hermione and I.

"I - well, I'm not going to pretend it didn't make a nice change, having a proper Care of Magical Creatures lesson for once - but I do want Hagrid back, of course I do!" Hermione added hastily, quailing under Harry's furious stare. I felt the same way but I kept my mouth shut knowing that Harry didn't want to hear anything like that at the moment.

So that evening after dinner, the four of us left the castle once more and went down through the frozen grounds to Hagrid's cabin. we knocked, and Fang's booming barks answered.

"Hagrid, it's us!" Harry shouted, pounding on the door. "Open up!"

Hagrid didn't answer. We could hear Fang scratching at the door, whining, but it didn't open. We hammered on it for ten more minutes; Ron even went and banged on one of the windows, but there was no response.

"What's he avoiding us for?" Hermione said when we had finally given up and were walking back to the school. "He surely doesn't think we'd care about him being half-giant?"

But it seemed that Hagrid did care. We didn't see a sign of him all week. He didn't appear at the staff table at mealtimes, we didn't see him going about his gamekeeper duties on the grounds, and Professor Grubbly-Plank continued to take the Care of Magical Creatures classes. Malfoy was gloating at every possible opportunity, despite having to continue to wear Gryffindor colored robes and wear his hood all the time to cover his hair. I had a feeling this was one of the few times he was NOT inclined to go directly to his father. 

"Missing your half-breed pal?" he kept whispering to Harry and I whenever there was a teacher around, so that he was safe from our retaliation. "Missing the elephant-man?"

There was a Hogsmeade visit halfway through January. Hermione was very surprised that Harry and I were going to go.

"I just thought you'd want to take advantage of the common room being quiet," she said. "Really get to work on those eggs."

"Oh W- we reckon we've got a pretty good idea what their about now," Harry lied. I didn't have the heart to even attempt to fib.

"Have you really?" said Hermione, looking impressed. "Well done!"

My insides gave a guilty squirm, but I ignored them. We still had five weeks to work out the egg clues, after all, and that was ages...whereas if we went into Hogsmeade, we might run into Hagrid, and get a chance to persuade him to come back.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I left the castle together on Saturday and set off through the cold, wet grounds toward the gates. As we passed the Durmstrang ship moored in the lake, we saw Viktor Krum emerge onto the deck, dressed in nothing but swimming trunks. He was very skinny indeed, but apparently a lot tougher than he looked, because he climbed up onto the side of the ship, stretched out his arms, and dived, right into the lake.

"He's mad!" said Harry, staring at Krum's dark head as it bobbed out into the middle of the lake. "It must be freezing, it's January!"

"It's a lot colder where he comes from," said Hermione. "I suppose it feels quite warm to him."

"Yeah, but there's still the giant squid," said Ron. He didn't sound anxious - if anything, he sounded hopeful. Hermione noticed his tone of voice and frowned.

"He's really nice, you know," she said. "He's not at all like you'd think, coming from Durmstrang. He likes it much better here, he told me."

Ron said nothing. He hadn't mentioned Viktor Krum since the ball, but I had a sneaky suspicion he was still jealous. 

Harry and I kept our eyes skinned for a sign of Hagrid all the way down the slushy High Street, and suggested a visit to the Three Broomsticks once we had ascertained that Hagrid was not in any of the shops.

The pub was as crowded as ever, but one quick look around at all the tables told us that Hagrid wasn't there. Heart sinking, I went up to the bar with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, ordered four butterbeers from Madam Rosmerta, and thought gloomily that I might just as well have stayed behind and listened to the egg wailing after all.

"Doesn't he ever go into the office?" Hermione whispered suddenly. "Look!"

She pointed into the mirror behind the bar, and I saw Ludo Bagman reflected there, sitting in a shadowy corner with a bunch of goblins. Bagman was talking very fast in a low voice to the goblins, all of whom had their arms crossed and were looking rather menacing.

It was indeed odd. I thought, that Bagman was here at the Three Broomsticks on a weekend when there was no Triwizard event, and therefore no judging to be done. I watched Bagman in the mirror. He was looking strained again, quite as strained as he had that night in the forest before the Dark Mark had appeared. But just then Bagman glanced over at the bar, saw Harry and I, and stood up.

"In a moment, in a moment!" I heard him say brusquely to the goblins, and Bagman hurried through the pub towards us, his boyish grin back in place.

"Harry! Katrina!" he said. "How are you? Been hoping to run into you two! Everything going all right?"

"Fine, thanks," said Harry and I together.

"Wonder if I could have a quick, private word?" said Bagman eagerly. "You couldn't give us a moment, you two, could you?"

"Er - okay," said Ron, and he and Hermione went off to find a table.

Bagman led Harry and I along the bar to the end furthest from Madam Rosmerta.

"Well, I just thought I'd congratulate you two again on your splendid performance against that Horntail an. the King of Dragons," said Bagman. "Really superb."

"Thanks," I said, but I knew this couldn't be all that Bagman wanted to say, because he could have congratulated us in front of Ron and Hermione. Bagman didn't seem in any particular rush to spill the beans, though. I saw him glance into the mirror over the bar at the goblins, who were all watching the three of us in silence through their dark, slanting eyes.

"Absolute nightmare," said Bagman to us in an undertone, noticing Harry and I watching the goblins too. "Their English isn't too good...it's like being back with all the Bulgarians at the Quidditch World Cup...but at least they used sign language another human could recognize. This lot keep gabbling in Gobblede-gook...and I only know one word of Gobbledegook. Bladvak. It means 'pickax.' I don't like to use it in case they think I'm threatening them."

He gave a short, booming laugh.

"What do they want?" I said, noticing how the goblins were still watching Bagman very closely.

"Er - well..." said Bagman, looking suddenly nervous. "They...er...they're looking for Barty Crouch."

"Why are they looking for him here?" said Harry. "He's at the Ministry in London, isn't he?"

"Er...as a matter of fact, I've no idea where he is," said Bagman. "He's sort of...stopped coming to work. Been absent for a couple of weeks now. Young Percy, his assistant, says he's ill. Apparently he's just been sending instructions in by owl. But would you mind not mentioning that to anyone. Because Rita Skeeter's still poking around everywhere she can, and I'm willing to bet she'd work up Bartys illness into something sinister. Probably say he's gone missing like Bertha Jorkins."

"Have you heard anything about Bertha Jorkins?" I asked.

"No," said Bagman, looking strained again. "I've got people looking, of course..." (About time, I thought) "and it's all very strange. She definitely arrived in Albania, because she met her second cousin there. And then she left the cousin's house to go south and see an aunt...and she seems to have vanished without trace en route. Blowed if I can see where she's got to...she doesn't seem the type to elope, for instance...but still...What are we doing, talking about goblins and Bertha Jorkins? I really wanted to ask you" - he lowered his voice - "how are you two getting on with your golden eggs?"

"Er...not bad," Harry and I said untruthfully.

Bagman seemed to know we weren't being honest.

"Listen," he said (still in a very low voice), "I feel very bad about all this...you two were thrown into this tournament, you didn't volunteer for it...and if..." (his voice was so quiet now, I had to lean closer to listen) "if I can help at all...a prod in the right direction...I've taken a liking to you two...the way you got past those dragons!...well, just say the word."

I stared up into Bagman's round, rosy face and his wide, baby-blue eyes.

"We're supposed to work out the clues alone, aren't we?" I said, careful to keep my voice casual and not sound as though I was accusing the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports of breaking the rules.

"Well...well, yes," said Bagman impatiently, "but - come on. Harry - Katrina - we all want a Hogwarts victory, don't we?"

"Have you offered Cedric help?" Harry said.

The smallest of frowns creased Bagman's smooth face. "No, I haven't," he said. "I - well, like I say, I've taken a liking to you two. Just thought I'd offer..."

"Well, thanks," said Harry, "but we think we're nearly there with the eggs...couple more days should crack it."

Bagman looked almost affronted, but couldn't say much more as Fred and George turned up at that point.

"Hello, Mr. Bagman," said Fred brightly. "Can we buy you a drink?"

"Er...no," said Bagman, with a last disappointed glance at Harry and I, "no, thank you, boys..."

Fred and George looked quite as disappointed as Bagman, who was surveying Harry and I as though we had let him down badly.

"Well, I must dash," he said. "Nice seeing you all. Good luck, Harry, Katrina."

He hurried out of the pub. The goblins all slid off their chairs and exited after him. Harry and I went to rejoin Ron and Hermione.

"What did he want?" Ron said, the moment we had sat down.

"He offered to help us with the golden eggs," said Harry.

"He shouldn't be doing that!" said Hermione, looking very shocked. "He's one of the judges! And anyway, you've already worked it out - haven't you?"

"Er...nearly," we replied.

"Well, I don't think Dumbledore would like it if he knew Bagman was trying to persuade you to cheat!" said Hermione, still looking deeply disapproving. "I hope he's trying to help Cedric as much!"

"He's not, I asked," said Harry.

"Who cares if Diggory's getting help?" said Ron. I privately disagreed.

"Those goblins didn't look very friendly," said Hermione, sipping her butterbeer. "What were they doing here?"

"Looking for Crouch, according to Bagman," I said. "He's still ill. Hasn't been into work."

"Maybe Percy's poisoning him," said Ron. "Probably thinks if Crouch snuffs it he'll be made head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

Hermione gave Ron a don't-joke-about-things-like-that look, and said, "Funny, goblins looking for Mr. Crouch...They'd normally deal with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

"Crouch can speak loads of different languages, though," said Harry. "Maybe they need an interpreter."

"Worrying about poor 'ickle goblins, now, are you?" Ron asked Hermione. "Thinking of starting up S.P.U.G. or something? Society for the Protection of Ugly Goblins?"

"Ha, ha, ha," said Hermione sarcastically. "Goblins don't need protection. Haven't you been listening to what Professor Binns has been telling us about goblin rebellions?"

"No," said Harry and Ron together.

"Well, the're quite capable of dealing with wizards," I started answering for Hermione, taking another sip of butterbeer. 

"They're very clever. They're not like house-elves, who never stick up for themselves." Hermione finished for me

"Uh-oh," said Ron, staring at the door.

Rita Skeeter had just entered. She was wearing banana-yellow robes today; her long nails were painted shocking pink, and she was accompanied by her paunchy photographer. I shivered as his eyes landed on me with a sinister smirk. I felt arms wrap around me and glanced up at Harry in appreciation and Drake snarled insults at the photographer in my head. 

Rita Skeeter bought drinks, and she and the photographer made their way through the crowds to a table nearby. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I glaring at her as she approached. She was talking fast and looking very satisfied about something.

"...didn't seem very keen to talk to us, did he, Bozo? Now, why would that be, do you think? And what's he doing with a pack of goblins in tow anyway? Showing them the sights...what nonsense...he was always a bad liar. Reckon something's up? Think we should do a bit of digging? 'Disgraced Ex-Head of Magical Games and Sports, Ludo Bagman...' Snappy start to a sentence, Bozo - we just need to find a story to fit it -"

"Trying to ruin someone else's life?" said Harry loudly.

A few people looked around. Rita Skeeter's eyes widened behind her jeweled spectacles as she saw who had spoken.

"Harry!" she said, beaming. "How lovely! Why don't you come and join-?"

"He wouldn't come near you with a ten-foot broomstick," I said furiously. "What did you do that to Hagrid for, eh?"

Rita Skeeter raised her heavily penciled eyebrows.

"Our readers have a right to the truth, Katrina. I am merely doing my-"

"Who cares if he's half-giant?" Harry shouted. "There's nothing wrong with him!"

The whole pub had gone very quiet. Madam Rosmerta was staring over from behind the bar, apparently oblivious to the fact that the flagon she was filling with mead was overflowing.

Rita Skeeter's smile flickered very slightly, but she hitched it back almost at once; she snapped open her crocodile-skin handbag, pulled out her Quick-Quotes Quill, and said, "How about giving me an interview about the Hagrid you know. Harry? How bout it Katrina? The man behind the muscles? Your unlikely friendship and the reasons behind it. Would you two call him a father substitute?"

Hermione stood up very abruptly, her butterbeer clutched in her hand as though it were a grenade.

"You horrible woman," she said, through gritted teeth, "you don't care, do you, anything for a story, and anyone will do, wont they? Even Ludo Bagman -"

"Sit down, you silly little girl, and don't talk about things you don't understand," said Rita Skeeter coldly, her eyes hardening as they fell on Hermione. "I know things about Ludo Bagman that would make your hair curl...not that it needs it -" she added, eyeing Hermione's bushy hair.

"Let's go," said Hermione, "c'mon. Harry - Kat - Ron..."

We left; many people were staring at us as we went. I glanced back as we reached the door. Rita Skeeter's Quick-Quotes Quill was out; it was zooming backward and forward over a piece of parchment on the table.

"She'll be after you two next, Hermione, Kat," said Ron in a low and worried voice as we walked quickly back up the street.

"Let her try!" said Hermione and I defiantly; we were both shaking with rage and if I hadn't been distracted I might have noticed all the snow piles that were falling and or shifting around me. 

"We'll show her! Silly little girl, am I? Oh, we'll get her back for this. First Harry, then Hagrid..."

"You don't want to go upsetting Rita Skeeter," said Ron nervously. "I'm serious, Hermione, Katrina, she'll dig up something on the both of you -"

"My parents don't read the Daily Prophet. She can't scare me into hiding!" said Hermione, now striding along so fast that it was all Harry and Ron could do to keep up with her. 

"And she already had her scoop on me and my scar, what else is there for her to fond other than that Sirius is my father and about my grandfather and at this point I don't care if people find out who I'm related to!" I growled out though I noticed Harry looking at me with worry at my statement.

"And Hagrid isn't hiding anymore! He should never have let that excuse for a human being upset him! Come on!" Hermione and I said together.

Breaking into a run, we led them all the way back up the road, through the gates flanked by winged boars, and up through the grounds to Hagrid's cabin.

The curtains were still drawn, and we could hear Fang barking as we approached.

"Hagrid!" Hermione and I shouted, pounding on his front door. "Hagrid, that's enough! We know you're in there! Nobody cares if your mum was a giantess, Hagrid! You can't let that foul Skeeter woman do this to you! Hagrid, get out here, you're just being -"

The door opened. Hermione said, "About it-!" and then stopped, very suddenly, because she had found herself face-to-face, not with Hagrid, but with my grandfather. I grinned up at him, seeing that he had the same idea as we had. 

"Good afternoon," he said pleasantly, smiling down at us and winking at me.

"We er we wanted to see Hagrid," said Hermione in a rather small voice.

"Yes, I surmised as much," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "Why don't you come in?"

"Oh...um...okay," said Hermione.

We went into the cabin; Fang launched himself upon Harry and I the moment we entered, barking madly and trying to lick our ears. Harry fended off Fang and looked around while Drake flew out from his spot on my shoulders and flew over to Hagrid to try and comfort him. Awww. How did I get so lucky in the pet department!

Hagrid was sitting at his table, where there were two large mugs of tea. He looked a real mess. His face was blotchy, his eyes swollen, and he had gone to the other extreme where his hair was concerned; far from trying to make it behave, it now looked like a wig of tangled wire.

"Hi, Hagrid," said Harry and I.

Hagrid looked up.

"'Lo," he said in a very hoarse voice.

"More tea, I think," said grandfather, closing the door behind us, drawing out his wand, and twiddling it; a revolving tea tray appeared in midair along with a plate of cakes. Grandfather magicked the tray onto the table, and everybody sat down. There was a slight pause, and then Dumbledore said, "Did you by any chance hear what Miss Granger and Katrina were shouting, Hagrid?"

Hermione went slightly pink, but Dumbledore smiled at her and winked at me again before he continued, "Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Katrina still seem to want to know you, judging by the way they were attempting to break down the door."

"Of course we still want to know you!" Harry said, staring at Hagrid. "You don't think anything that Skeeter cow - sorry, Professor," he added quickly, looking at my grandfather.

"I have gone temporarily deaf and haven't any idea what you said. Harry," said Dumbledore, twiddling his thumbs and staring at the ceiling. I giggled and hid my face behind my hands at this.

"Er-right," said Harry sheepishly. "I just meant-Hagrid, how could you think we'd care what that-woman-wrote about you?"

Two fat tears leaked out of Hagrid's beetle-black eyes and fell slowly into his tangled beard.

"Living proof of what I've been telling you, Hagrid," said Dumbledore, still looking carefully up at the ceiling. "I have shown you the letters from the countless parents who remember you from their own days here, telling me in no uncertain terms that if I sacked you, they would have something to say about it -" My eyes started to water at this - how sweet. I couldn't even begin to imagine how many lives Hagrid must have impacted over his many years here at school not to mention my own and my friends!

"Not all of 'em," said Hagrid hoarsely. "Not all of 'em wan me ter stay."

"Really, Hagrid, if you are holding out for universal popularity, I'm afraid you will be in this cabin for a very long time," said Dumbledore, now peering sternly over his half-moon spectacles. "Not a week has passed since I became headmaster of this school when I haven't had at least one owl complaining about the way I run it. But what should I do? Barricade myself in my study and refuse to talk to anybody?"

"Yeh - yeh're not half-giant!" said Hagrid croakily.

"Hagrid, look what I've got for relatives!" Harry said furiously. "Look at the Dursleys!"

"An excellent point," said Professor Dumbledore. "My own brother, Aberforth, was prosecuted for practicing inappropriate charms on a goat. It was all over the papers, but did Aberforth hide? No, he did not! He held his head high and went about his business as usual! Of course, I'm not entirely sure he can read, so that may not have been bravery...." I couldn't help another giggle from escaping.

"Come back and teach, Hagrid," said Hermione quietly, "please come back, we really miss you."

Hagrid gulped. More tears leaked out down his cheeks and into his tangled beard.

Dumbledore stood up. "I refuse to accept your resignation, Hagrid, and I expect you back at work on Monday," he said. "You will join me for breakfast at eight-thirty in the Great Hall. No excuses. Good afternoon to you all."

Grandfather left the cabin, pausing only to scratch Fangs ears. When the door had shut behind him, Hagrid began to sob into his dustbin-lid-sized hands. Hermione and I kept patting his arm, and at last, Hagrid looked up, his eyes very red indeed, and said, "Great man, Dumbledore...great man...."

"Yeah, he is," said Ron. "Can I have one of these cakes, Hagrid?"

"Help yerself," said Hagrid, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand. "Ar, he's righ', o' course - yeh're all righ'...I bin stupid...my ol' dad woulda bin ashamed o' the way I've bin behavin'...." More tears leaked out, but he wiped them away more forcefully, and said, "Never shown you a picture of my old dad, have I? Here..."

Hagrid got up, went over to his dresser, opened a drawer, and pulled out a picture of a short wizard with Hagrid's crinkled black eyes, beaming as he sat on top of Hagrid's shoulder. Hagrid was a good seven or eight feet tall, judging by the apple tree beside him, but his face was beardless, young, round, and smooth - he looked hardly older than eleven.

"Tha was taken jus' after I got inter Hogwarts," Hagrid croaked. "Dad was dead chuffed...thought I migh' not be a wizard, see, 'cos me mum...well, anyway. 'Course, I never was great shakes at magic, really...but at least he never saw me expelled. Died, see, in me second year...."

"Dumbledore was the one who stuck up for me after Dad went. Got me the gamekeeper job...trusts people, he does. Gives 'em second chances...tha's what sets him apar' from other heads, see. He'll accept anyone at Hogwarts, s'long as they've got the talent. Knows people can turn out okay even if their families weren'...well...all tha' respectable. But some don understand that. There's some who'd always hold it against yeh...there's some who'd even pretend they just had big bones rather than stand up an' say - I am what I am, an' I'm not ashamed. 'Never be ashamed,' my ol' dad used ter say, 'there's some who'll hold it against you, but they're not worth botherin' with.' An' he was right. I've bin an idiot. I'm not botherin' with her no more, I promise yeh that. Big bones...I'll give her big bones."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I looked at one another nervously.

"Yeh know wha, Harry? Katrina?" he said, looking up from the photograph of his father, his eyes very bright, "when I firs' met you, you reminded me o' me a bit. Mum an' Dad gone, an' you two was feelin' like yeh wouldn' fit in at Hogwarts, remember? Not sure yeh were really up to it...an' now look at yeh! School champions!"

He looked at Harry and I for a moment and then said, very seriously, "Yeh know what I'd love? I'd love yeh both ter win, I really would. It'd show 'em all...yeh don' have ter be pureblood ter do it. Yeh don have ter be ashamed of what yeh are. It'd show 'em Dumbledore's the one who's got it righ', lettin' anyone in as long as they can do magic. How you doin' with those eggs?"

"Great," said Harry and I. "Really great."

Hagrid's miserable face broke into a wide, watery smile.

"Tha's my boy...tha's m'girl. You show 'em, you show 'em. Beat 'em all."

Lying to Hagrid wasn't quite like lying to anyone else. I went back to the castle later that afternoon with Harry, Ron and Hermione, unable to banish the image of the happy expression on Hagrid's whiskery face as he had imagined us winning the tournament. The incomprehensible egg weighed more heavily than ever on my conscience that evening, and by the time I had got into bed, I had made up my mind - it was time to say to hell with Harry's pride and see if Cedric's hint was worth anything.

********************************************

In-line Comments

\- Hope you guys liked my little act of revenge and didnt think it was too lame ; couldn't really think of anything else but that at the moment and it's been so long since i updated that i just said to hell with it!  
\- Kat's gonna be learning new water-based abilities soon so excited for that and if you have any suggestions on how they manifest feel free to share :)  
\- if it wasn't clear, Harry is worried that Skeeter will find out who her real dad is which she may or may not be doing later in this story havent decided yet if I want everyone to know in book four or for it to be revealed at the end of book 5 or during the 6th/7th so if anyone has any opinion feel free to let me know so i can start a poll!  
\- as always, feel free to share your thoughts on this latest chapter!


	83. The Egg & the Eye

Katrina's POV

Harry and I had no idea how long a bath we would need to work out the secret of the golden eggs, so we decided to do it at night, when we would be able to take as much time as we wanted. Reluctant though Harry was to accept more favors from Cedric, we also decided to use the prefects' bathroom; far fewer people were allowed in there, so it was much less likely that we would be disturbed.

We planned our excursion carefully, because we had been caught out of bed and out-of-bounds by Filch the caretaker in the middle of the night once before, and had no desire to repeat the experience. The Invisibility Cloak would, of course, be essential, and as an added precaution, I told Harry the we should take the Marauders Map, which, next to the cloak, was the most useful aid to rule-breaking Harry owned.

On Thursday night, Harry sneaked up to bed, put on the cloak, crept back downstairs, and, just as he had done on the night when Hagrid had shown us the dragons, waited for the portrait hole to open. This time it was Ron who waited outside to give the Fat Lady the password ("banana fritters"), "Good luck," Ron muttered, climbing into the room as Harry crept out and made his way to my room and gave the secret knock.

It was awkward moving under the cloak tonight, because we had the heavy eggs under our arms and the map held in front of our noses with the other. However, the moonlit corridors were empty and silent, and by checking the map at strategic intervals, we were able to ensure that we wouldn't run into anyone we wanted to avoid. When we reached the statue of Boris the Bewildered, a lost-looking wizard with his gloves on the wrong hands, we located the right door, leaned close to it, and muttered the password, "Pine fresh," just as Cedric had told us.

The door creaked open. Harry and I slipped inside, bolted the door behind us, and pulled off the Invisibility Cloak, looking around.

My immediate reaction was that it would be worth becoming a prefect just to be able to use this bathroom. It was softly lit by a splendid candle-filled chandelier, and everything was made of white marble, including what looked like an empty, rectangular swimming pool sunk into the middle of the floor. About a hundred golden taps stood all around the pools edges, each with a differently colored Jewel set into its handle. There was also a diving board. Long white linen curtains hung at the windows; a large pile of fluffy white towels sat in a corner, and there was a single golden-framed painting on the wall. It featured a blonde mermaid who was fast asleep on a rock, her long hair over her face. It fluttered every time she snored.

I moved forward, looking around, my footsteps echoing off the walls. Magnificent though the bathroom was - and quite keen though I was to try out a few of those taps - now we were here I couldn't help but realize that Harry and I were alone together for the first time since we had kissed at the Yule Ball. Nevertheless, I put two of the Huffy towels, the cloak, the map, and the eggs at the side of the swimming-pool-sized bath, then knelt down and turned on a few of the taps.

I could tell at once that they carried different sorts of bubble bath mixed with the water, though it wasn't bubble bath as I had ever experienced it. One tap gushed pink and blue bubbles the size of footballs; another poured ice-white foam so thick that I thought it would have supported my weight if I'd cared to test it; a third sent heavily perfumed purple clouds hovering over the surface of the water. Harry and I amused ourselves for awhile turning the taps on and off, particularly enjoying the effect of one whose jet bounced off the surface of the water in large arcs. Then, when the deep pool was full of hot water, foam, and bubbles, which took a very short time considering its size, we turned off all the taps, pulled off our pajamas, slippers, and dressing gown, and slid into the water. I had worn the same bathing suit under my pajamas as I had worn the day we went swimming over the summer at the Weasley's and I glanced over at Harry's wide eyes as he carefully watched me get undressed and slip into the warm water. I blushed furiously and was thankful that the foam and steam in the room hid my red face.

The tub was so deep that my feet barely touched the bottom, and I actually did a couple of lengths before swimming back to the side and treading water next to Harry, staring at the eggs. Highly enjoyable though it was to swim in hot and foamy water with clouds of different-colored steam wafting all around us, no stroke of brilliance came to him or I, no sudden burst of understanding.

Harry stretched out his arms, lifted one of the eggs in his wet hands, and opened it. The wailing, screeching sound filled the bathroom, echoing and reverberating off the marble walls, but it sounded just as incomprehensible as ever, if not more so with all the echoes. He snapped it shut again, worried that the sound would attract Filch - and then, making him jump so badly that he dropped the egg, which clattered away across the bathroom floor, someone spoke.

"I'd try putting it in the water, if I were you."

I laughed as Harry swallowed a considerable amount of bubbles in shock. He stood up, sputtering as I patted him on the back, and saw the ghost of a very glum-looking girl sitting cross-legged on top of one of the taps. It was Moaning Myrtle, who was usually to be heard sobbing in the S-bend of a toilet three floors below.

"Myrtle!" Harry said in outrage, "I'm - I'm not wearing anything!" I was overcome with a fit of giggles as I watched Harry try to cover up his chest with the foam surrounding him. He glared at me and I just smirked.

"I closed my eyes when you two got in," she said, blinking at Harry through her thick spectacles. "You haven't been to see me for ages."

"Yeah...well..." said Harry, bending his knees slightly, just to make absolutely sure Myrtle couldn't see anything but his head, "I'm not supposed to come into your bathroom, am I? It's a girls' one." I laughed again. Was it wrong that I was enjoying watching Harry squirm?

"You didn't used to care," said Myrtle miserably. "You used to be in there all the time."

This was true, though only because Harry, Ron, and Hermione had found Myrtle's out-of-order toilets a convenient place to brew Polyjuice Potion in secret - a forbidden potion that had turned him and Ron into living replicas of Crabbe and Goyle for an hour, so that they could sneak into the Slytherin common room. I had been avoiding them at the time because I refused to believe that Draco was involved in anything nefarious; and I had been right.

"I got told off for going in there." said Harry, which was half-true; Percy had once caught him and Ron coming out of Myrtles bathroom. "I thought I'd better not come back after that."

"Oh...I see..." said Myrtle, picking at a spot on her chin in a morose sort of way. "Well...anyway...I'd try the egg in the water. That's what Cedric Diggory did."

"Have you been spying on him too?" said Harry indignantly. "What d'you do, sneak up here in the evenings to watch the prefects take baths?" I burst into another round of giggles at this and Harry glared at me.

"Sometimes," said Myrtle, rather slyly, "but I've never come out to speak to anyone before."

"I'm honored," said Harry darkly. "You two keep your eyes shut!"

Harry made sure Myrtle had her glasses well covered before hoisting himself out of the bath, wrapping the towel firmly around his waist, and going to retrieve our eggs. I tried not to peek - I really did! But I couldn't help opening an eye and admiring the way the water was rolling down his chest. I was quite surprised to discover that Harry had abs! When did that happen?! I couldn't stop staring. It must have been from playing quidditch but bloody hell! I never would have imagined.

"Your peeking!" Harry said with a sly smirk, startling me out of my stupor. I blushed a brilliant shade of red and dunked my head under the water, bubbles, and foam to avoid having to answer him.

Once he was back in the water, Myrtle peered through her fingers and said, "Go on, then...open them under the water!"

Harry handed me my egg and together we lowered the eggs beneath the foamy surface and opened them...and this time, they did not wail. A gurgling song was coming out of them, a song whose words we couldnt distinguish through the water.

"You need to put your heads under too," said Myrtle, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying bossing Harry and I around. "Go on!"

I took a great breath and slid under the surface - and now, sitting on the marble bottom of the bubble-filled bath, I heard a chorus of eerie voices singing to me from the open egg in my hands:

"Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing above the ground,

And while you're searching, ponder this:

We've taken what you'll sorely miss,

An hour long you'll have to look,

And to recover what we took,

But past an hour- the prospect's black,

Too late, it's gone, it wont come back"

I let myself float back upward and broke the bubbly surface, shaking my long dark hair out of my eyes and waiting for Harry. I had a sneaking suspicion I knew what the task was going to be now but I wanted to hear Harry's thoughts first.

"Hear it?" said Myrtle.

"Yeah...'Come seek us where our voices sound...' and if I need persuading...hang on, I need to listen again..." I laughed and watched as Harry dived in and out of the bubbly water. It took three more underwater renditions of the egg's song before Harry had it memorized; then he trod water for a while, thinking hard, while Myrtle sat and watched him. It weirded me out a little but I sat as well and waited for him to work out the clue on his own.

"I've got to go and look for people who can't use their voices above the ground..." he said slowly. "Er...who could that be?"

"Slow, aren't you?"

I had never seen Moaning Myrtle so cheerful, apart from the day when a dose of PolyJuice Potion had given Hermione the hairy face and tail of a cat. I watched as Harry stared around the bathroom, thinking...if the voices could only be heard underwater, then it made sense for them to belong to underwater creatures. He ran this theory past Myrtle, who smirked at him. I bit my lip and kept my mouth shut. I really wanted Harry to work this out on his own.

"Well, thats what Diggory thought," she said. "He lay there talking to himself for ages about it. Ages and ages...nearly all the bubbles had gone..."

"Underwater..." Harry said slowly. "Myrtle...what lives in the lake, apart from the giant squid?"

"Oh all sorts," she said. "I sometimes go down there...sometimes don't have any choice, if someone flushes my toilet when I'm not expecting it..."

"Well, does anything in there have a human voice? Hang on -"

Harry's eyes had fallen on the picture of the snoozing mermaid on the wall.

"Myrtle, there aren't merpeople in there, are there?"

"Oooh, very good," she said, her thick glasses twinkling, "it took Diggory much longer than that! And that was with her awake too" - Myrtle jerked her head toward the mermaid with an expression of great dislike on her glum face - "giggling and showing off and flashing her fins..."

"Thats it, isn't it?" said Harry excitedly. "The second task's to go and find the merpeople in the lake and...and..."

"Myrtle," Harry said slowly, "how am I supposed to breathe?"

At this, Myrtle's eyes filled with sudden tears again.

"Tactless!" she muttered, groping in her robes for a handkerchief.

"What's tactless?" said Harry, bewildered.

"Talking about breathing in front of me!" she said shrilly, and her voice echoed loudly around the bathroom. "When I can't...when I haven't...not for ages..."

She buried her face in her handkerchief and sniffed loudly. I remembered how touchy Myrtle had always been about being dead, but none of the other ghosts we knew made such a fuss about it.

"Sorry," Harry said impatiently. "I didn't mean - I just forgot..."

"Oh yes, very easy to forget Myrtle's dead," said Myrtle, gulping, looking at Harry out of swollen eyes. "Nobody missed me even when I was alive. Took them hours and hours to find my body - I know, I was sitting there waiting for them. Olive Hornby came into the bathroom - Are you in here again, sulking, Myrtle?' she said, 'because Professor Dippet asked me to look for you -' And then she saw my body...ooooh, she didn't forget it until her dying day, I made sure of that...followed her around and reminded her, I did. I remember at her brother's wedding -"

But neither of us were listening; we were thinking about the merpeople's song again. "We've taken what you'll sorely miss." That sounded as though they were going to steal something of ours, something we had to get back. What were they going to take?

"-and then, of course, she went to the Ministry of Magic to stop me stalking her, so I had to come back here and live in my toilet."

"Good," said Harry vaguely. "Well, we're a lot further on than we were...can you give us some privacy now Myrtle? There's something I want to talk to Katrina about." I looked up at him in curiosity. What was it that he wanted to talk to me about? And why did Myrtle have to leave for it?

"Will you come and visit me in my bathroom again sometime?" Moaning Myrtle asked mournfully.

"Er...I'll try," Harry said, though I could tell that he was privately thinking the only way he'd be visiting Myrtle's bathroom again was if every other toilet in the castle got blocked. "See you. Myrtle...thanks for your help."

"Bye, 'bye," she said gloomily, and we watched as she zoomed back up the tap.

"So uh, what did you want to talk to me about?" I said, playing nervously with my hair.

"The Yule Ball," Harry said, swimming closer to me.

"Oh, what about it?" I said blushing as I tried to swim backwards.

"We kissed, twice..." Harry said bluntly following me forward. I hadn't thought it possible but my face went even redder. Since when had Harry become so direct!

"Um...yes, yes we did...w-what's your point?" I spluttered as I continued to back up - a particularly difficult task since my feet didn't reach the bottom.

"Well, I liked it...and I like you...and I would really like to kiss you again..." I was now up against the other side of the tub and there was nowhere for me to go. I blinked trying to comprehend what Harry had just said as I continued to blush a fiery red. The confident husky tone in his voice was a pleasant change from the normal, but it was also completely blindsiding me!

I stared into his eyes as he leaned in closer and closer until our lips were centimeters apart. He waited there for what felt like ages until finally covering the last bit of distance.

Kissing Harry was unlike anything I could ever have imagined in my dreams. It started slow and sensual but quickly became more heated as years worth of pent up emotions came tumbling out. I wrapped my legs around his waist and drew him in closer as I kissed him thoroughly; not knowing how long this blessed moment would last and wanting to enjoy as much of it as possible.

An hour later we retrieved our eggs from the bottom of the bath, climbed out, dried ourselves, and pulled on our pajamas and dressing gowns again. I was still blushing as we left the room hand in hand. Instead of sneaking back to the Gryffindor Common room with Harry, however, I decided to go straight to my own room. Harry didn't want me walking the corridors at night alone and without his invisibility cloak but I was eventually able to persuade him that my disillusionment charms were strong enough to protect me.

I brushed my damp hair and braided it down my back as I contemplated the meaning behind the egg's clue. Drake sidn't offer any helpful advice so with a heavy sigh I rolled over and went to sleep, hoping that Harry had been able to get back safe as well.

Harry's POV

I walked slowly back to Gryffindor Tower, lost in thought about Snape, and Crouch, and what it all meant...Why was Crouch pretending to be ill, if he could manage to get to Hogwarts when he wanted to? What was Snape concealing in his office?

And Moody thought I, Harry, ought to be an Auror! Interesting idea...but somehow. I thought, as I got quietly into my four-poster ten minutes later, the egg and the cloak now safely back in my trunk, I thought I'd like to check how scarred the rest of them were before I chose it as a career.


	84. The Second Task

Katrina's POV

You said you two had already worked out that egg clue!" said Hermione indignantly.

"Keep your voice down!" said Harry crossly. "We just need to - sort of fine-tune it, all right?"

He, Ron, Hermione, and I were sitting at the very back of the Charms class with a table to themselves. We were supposed to be practicing the opposite of the Summoning Charm today - the Banishing Charm. Owing to the potential for nasty accidents when objects kept flying across the room. Professor Flitwick had given us a stack of cushions on which to practice, the theory being that these wouldn't hurt anyone if they went off target. It was a good theory, but it wasn't working very well. Neville's aim was so poor that he kept accidentally sending much heavier things flying across the room - Professor Flitwick, for instance.

"Just forget the egg for a minute, all right?"   
Harry hissed as Professor Flitwick went whizzing resignedly past us, landing on top of a large cabinet. "I'm trying to tell you about Snape and Moody..." I rolled my eyes at Harry's latest Snape theory.

"Snape said Moody searched his office as well?" Ron whispered, his eyes alight with interest as he Banished a cushion with a sweep of his wand (it soared into the air and knocked Parvati's hat off). "What...d'you reckon Moody's here to keep an eye on Snape as well as Karkaroff?" Ugh! Snape was not the bad guy! My next pillow was sent flying into the opposite wall with a resounding thud as I let my frustration out.

"Well, I dunno if that's what Dumbledore asked him to do, but he's definitely doing it," said Harry, waving his wand without paying much attention, so that his cushion did an odd sort of belly flop off the desk. "Moody said Dumbledore only lets Snape stay here because he's giving him a second chance or something..."

"What?" said Ron, his eyes widening, his next cushion spinning high into the air, ricocheting off the chandelier, and dropping heavily onto Flitwick's desk. "Harry...maybe Moody thinks Snape put your names in the Goblet of Fire!" I glared at Ron.

"Oh Ron," said Hermione, shaking her head sceptically, "we thought Snape was trying to kill Harry and Katrina before, and it turned out he was saving Harry's life, remember?" I nodded at Hermione's words.

She Banished a cushion and it flew across the room and landed in the box they were all supposed to be aiming at.

"I don't care what Moody says," Hermione went on. "Dumbledore's not stupid. He was right to trust Hagrid and Professor Lupin, even though loads of people wouldn't have given them jobs, so why shouldn't he be right about Snape, even if Snape is a bit -"

"- evil," said Ron promptly. "Come on, Hermione, why are all these Dark wizard catchers searching his office, then?"

"Why has Mr. Crouch been pretending to be ill?" said Hermione, ignoring Ron. "Its a bit funny, isn't it, that he cant manage to come to the Yule Ball, but he can get up here in the middle of the night when he wants to?"

"You just don't like Crouch because of that elf, Winky," said Ron, sending a cushion soaring into the window.

"You just want to think Snape's up to something," said Hermione, sending her cushion zooming neatly into the box. My next pillow landed softly on top of hers as I sent Hermione silent thanks for not rushing to conclusions about my godfather like everyone else did. 

"I just want to know what Snape did with his first chance, if he's on his second one," said Harry grimly, and his cushion, to his very great surprise, flew straight across the room and landed neatly on top of mine.

Obedient to Sirius's wish of hearing about anything odd at Hogwarts, Harry and I had sent him a letter by brown owl that night, explaining all about Mr. Crouch breaking into Snape's office, and Moody and Snape's conversation. Then we turned our attention in earnest to the most urgent problem facing us: how to survive underwater for an hour on the twenty-fourth of February.

Ron quite liked the idea of using the Summoning Charm again - Harry had explained about Aqua-Lungs, and Ron couldn't see why Harry shouldn't Summon one from the nearest Muggle town. Hermione and I squashed this plan by pointing out that, in the unlikely event that Harry managed to learn how to operate an Aqua-Lung within the set limit of an hour, he was sure to be disqualified for breaking the International Code of Wizarding Secrecy - it was too much to hope that no Muggles would spot an Aqua-Lung zooming across the countryside to Hogwarts.

"Of course, the ideal solution would be for you to Transfigure yourself into a submarine or something," Hermione said. "If only we'd done human Transfiguration already! But I don't think we start that until sixth year, and it can go badly wrong if you don't know what you're doing..." I paused, about to send another pillow flying. That was it! I could try and morph into a sea creature of some sort using my metamorphmagus abilities! That or maybe I would be able to learn to control the element of water in time. Either would work for me. But that still left Harry.

"Yeah, I don't fancy walking around with a periscope sticking out of my head," said Harry.   
"I s'pose I could always attack someone in front of Moody; he might do it for me...."

"I don't think he'd let you choose what you wanted to be turned into, though," said Hermione seriously. "No, I think your best chance is some sort of charm."

So Harry, Ron, and Hermione went off to the library to look up various charms that might be of use, while I closeted myself in my room as often as I could with a bowl of water and a giant animology book filled with different potential forms and their personality traits that defined them. Grandfather had mentioned at the end of last year that it would be difficult to transform fully if I wasn't able to connect to the  spirit/essence of the creature I was trying to transfigure into.

Just as it had before I faced the Horntail, time was slipping away as though somebody had bewitched the clocks to go extra-fast.   
There was a week to go before February the twenty-fourth (there was still time)...there were five days to go (I was bound to master it soon)...three days to go (please let me get the hang of this...please)...

With two days left. I started to go off food again. The only good thing about breakfast on Monday was the return of the brown owl Harry and I had sent to Sirius. We pulled off the parchment, unrolled it, and saw the shortest letter Sirius had ever written to us.

Send date of next Hogsmeade weekend by return owl.

Harry turned the parchment over and looked at the back, hoping to see something else, but it was blank. 

"Weekend after next," whispered Hermione, who had read the note over our shoulders.   
"Here - take my quill and send this owl back straight away."

Harry scribbled the dates down on the back of Sirius's letter, tied it onto the brown owl's leg, and watched it take flight again. I sighed. What had I expected? Advice on how control the elements? Harry had been so intent on telling Sirius all about Snape and Moody he had completely forgotten to mention the eggs clue.

"What's he want to know about the next Hogsmeade weekend for?" said Ron.

"Dunno," said Harry dully. "Come on ...Care of Magical Creatures."

Whether Hagrid was trying to make up for the Blast-Ended Skrewts, or because there were now only two skrewts left, or because he was trying to prove he could do anything that Professor Grubbly-Plank could. I didnt know, but Hagrid had been continuing her lessons on unicorns ever since he'd returned to work. It turned out that Hagrid knew quite as much about unicorns as he did about monsters, though it was clear that he found their lack of poisonous fangs disappointing.

Today he had managed to capture two unicorn foals. Unlike full-grown unicorns, they were pure gold. Parvati and Lavender went into transports of delight at the sight of them, and even Pansy Parkinson had to work hard to conceal how much she liked them.

"Easier ter spot than the adults," Hagrid told the class. "They turn silver when they're abou' two years old, an' they grow horns at aroun four. Don' go pure white till they're full grown, 'round about seven. They're a bit more trustin twhen they're babies...don mind boys so much...C'mon, move in a bit, yeh can pat 'em if yeh want...give 'em a few o' these sugar lumps...

"You okay. Harry? Kat?" Hagrid muttered, moving aside slightly, while most of the others swarmed around the baby unicorns.  
"Yeah," we said together. "Jus' nervous, eh?" said Hagrid. "Bit," said Harry for the both of us.

"I'd've bin worried before I saw yeh take on tha Horntail, and The King of Dragons but I know now yeh can do anythin' yeh set yer mind ter. I'm not worried at all. Yeh're goin ter be fine. Got yer clues worked out, haven' yeh?"

Harry and I nodded, but even as I did so, an insane urge to confess that I wasn't making any progress came over me. I looked up at Hagrid - 

"Yeh're goin' ter win," Hagrid growled, patting our shoulders again, so that I actually felt myself sink a couple of inches into the soft ground. "I know it. I can feel it. Yeh're goin' ter win!

I just couldn't bring myself to wipe the happy, confident smile off Hagrid's face. Pretending I was interested in the young unicorns, I forced a smile in return, and moved forward to pat them with the others.

By the evening before the second task, I felt as though I were trapped in a nightmare. I was able to push water away from me but only if I focused every part of my mind on the task - and let's be honest - I had trouble concentrating on anything for more than 45 seconds or so! And I was having no luck whatsoever changing into any full animal form other than a lion, cat, and a few others; but nothing that could breath underwater! I couldn't even manage to give myself gills!

I was working on my concentration with a large bowl of water (I was holding the water away from me to form a bubble around me as I levitated a foot above the bed) when I loud knock on my door shattered my focus and I went crashing down on my bed as water rained down all over me. I grumbled and rolled myself off my bed and towards the door. I yanked it open to find Sev staring at my wet, bedraggled appearance.

"What're you doing here?" I asked.

"Looking for Drake," said Snape. "McGonagall wants to see him."

"Why?" I said, surprised.

"I'm not at liberty to say," Sev was looking a bit grim as he looked at me and said this. I need to take him down to her office though." 

Drake! Can you come here?! 

I loud gust of wind came from my window as my dragon flew through the window and landed by my side. I quickly explained what my godfather had said and he plodded off after Sev leaving me all alone to continue to practice. I groaned and sank back onto my bed - only to hop up quickly as I realized it was still soaking wet. I huffed and quickly warmed it back up with a spell before sitting back down and getting back to work.

One in the morning...two in the morning...

The mermaid in the painting in the prefects' bathroom was laughing. I was bobbing like a cork in bubbly water next to her rock, while she held my Firebolt over my head.

"Come and get it!" she giggled maliciously.   
"Come on, jump!"

"I can't," I panted, snatching at the Firebolt, and struggling not to sink. "Give it to me!"

But she just poked me painfully in the side with the end of the broomstick, laughing at me...

My alarm woke me up in the morning and I blinked blearily as I rolled out of bed and landed on the floor with a loud thump. I groaned as I slowly got back up. I was exhausted, but now I was definitely awake. I couldn't stomach eating food with my tummy twisted into the knots that it was. I looked around for Harry, Ron, and Hermione but they were nowhere to be found so I gave up on breakfast entirely.

The entrance hall contained several students, all leaving the Great Hall after breakfast and heading through the double oak doors to watch the second task. They stared as me as I walked past them and down the stone steps and out onto the bright, chilly grounds.

As he walked down the lawn I saw that the seats that had encircled the dragons' enclosure in November were now ranged along the opposite bank, rising in stands that were packed to the bursting point and reflected in the lake below. The excited babble of the crowd echoed strangely across the water as I made my way to the other side of the lake toward the judges, who were sitting at another gold- draped table at the water's edge. Cedric, Fleur, and Krum were already there, but I saw no sign of Harry. As the minutes ticked by I got more and more worried until I finally saw him dashing down towards us at the very last second. I rolled my eyes. I had a feeling he had just barely woken up in time! 

"I'm...here..." Harry panted, skidding to a halt in the mud and accidentally splattering Fleurs robes.

"Where have you been?" said a bossy, disapproving voice. "The task's about to start!"  
Harry and I looked around. Percy Weasley was sitting at the judges' table - Mr. Crouch had failed to turn up again.

"Now, now, Percy!" said Ludo Bagman, who was looking intensely relieved to see Harry. "Let him catch his breath!"

Dumbledore smiled at Harry, and then winked at me when no one was looking; but Karkaroff and Madame Maxime didn't look at all pleased to see Harry. It was obvious from the looks on their faces that they had thought he wasn't going to turn up.

Harry bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for breath; I patted him on the back as Ludo Bagman came moving among the champions, spacing us along the bank at intervals of ten feet. Harry was on the very end of the line, next to Krum, who was wearing swimming trunks and was holding his wand ready. I was standing on the other side of Krum, with Cedric on my right.

"All right. Katrina?" Bagman whispered as he moved me a few feet farther away from Krum. "Know what you're going to do?"

"Yeah," I said, sounding more confident then I felt. I had managed to improve to keep my bubble of air up for 5 minutes but I didn't think that was going to be anywhere near enough time. I'd have to waste a lot of extra time swimming up to the surface and back down..

Bagman returned to the judges' table; pointed his wand at his throat as he had done at the World Cup, said, "Sonorus!" and his voice boomed out across the dark water toward the stands.

"Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One...two...three!"

The whistle echoed shrilly in the cold, still air; the stands erupted with cheers and applause; without looking to see what the other champions were doing, I pulled off my shoes, socks, and robes, and waded out into the lake.

It was so cold I felt the skin on my legs searing as though this were fire, not icy water. I slowly walked in deeper; now the water was over my knees, and my rapidly numbing feet were slipping over silt and flat, slimy stones. When the water was up to my neck I finally took a huge breath and ducked under the water focusing on combing my air and water abilities to keep the air in and the water out of my bubble.

I stretched out my hands in front of me and stared at them. They looked green and ghostly under the water, but thankfully the water didn't feel icy anymore either...on the contrary, I felt pleasantly cool and very light. Unfortunately I wasnt able to move very fast in my bubble but I swam as fast as I could, though I had no idea where I was headed. 5 minutes came and went a lot faster than I was hoping and I was just about to head up towards the surface of the lake when I felt my legs being yanked down roughly. My concentration broke and my bubble of air and water disappeared instantly as I looked down to see several grindylows staring at me, the white pointy teeth glinting at me. 

Before I could panic too much, I closed my eyes and held my wand tightly as I focused as hard as I could. My eyes flew open as I felt my body shoot forward. When I was clear of the grindylows I risked looking back and grinned when I saw my feet had been replaced with a dolphin tail as I had desired.

I struck out once more, marveling at how far and fast my new tail propelled me through the water, and noticing how clearly I could see...then I realized that I no longer seemed to need to blink, no did I seem to need to breath! I held my hands to my neck and discovered to my joy that I had finally managed to form gills!

I had soon swum so far into the lake that I could no longer see the bottom. I flipped over and dived into its depths.

Silence pressed upon my ears as I soared over a strange, dark, foggy landscape. I could only see ten feet around me, so that as I sped throuugh the water new scenes seemed to loom suddenly out of the incoming darkness: forests of rippling, tangled black weed, wide plains of mud littered with dull, glimmering stones. I swam deeper and deeper, out toward the middle of the lake, my eyes wide, staring through the eerily gray-lit water around me to the shadow beyond, where the water became opaque.

Small fish flickered past me like silver darts.   
Once or twice I thought I saw something larger moving ahead of me, but when I got nearer, I discovered it to be nothing but a large, blackened log, or a dense clump of weed.   
There was no sign of any of the other champions, merpeople, Drake - nor, thankfully, the giant squid.

Light green weed stretched ahead of me as far as I could see, two feet deep, like a meadow of very overgrown grass. I was staring unblinkingly ahead of me, trying to discern shapes through the gloom...and then, without warning, something grabbed hold of me again.

I twisted my body around and saw another grindylow poking out of the weed, its long fingers clutched tightly around my tail, its pointed fangs bared - two more grindylows rose out of the weed, seized my arms along with several handfuls of my poor bathing suit top, and were attempting to drag me down.

"Relashio!" I shouted, except that no sound came out. A large bubble issued from my mouth, and my wand, instead of sending sparks at the grindylows, pelted them with what seemed to be a jet of boiling water, for where it struck them, angry red patches appeared on their green skin. I pulled my ankle out of the grindylows grip and swam, as fast as I could, occasionally sending more jets of hot water over my shoulder at random; every now and then I felt one of the grindylows snatch at my fin again, and I kicked out, hard; finally, I felt it connect with a horned skull, and looking back, saw the dazed grindylow floating away, cross-eyed, while its fellows shook their fists at me and sank back into the weed.

I slowed down a little and looked around, listening again. I turned full circle in the water, the silence pressing harder than ever against my eardrums. I knew I must be even deeper in the lake now, but nothing was moving but the rippling weed.

"How are you getting on?"

I thought I was having a heart attack. I whipped around and saw Moaning Myrtle floating hazily in front of me, gazing at me through her thick, pearly glasses.

"Myrtle!" I tried to shout - but once again, nothing came out of his mouth but a very large bubble. Moaning Myrtle actually giggled.

"You want to try over there!" she said, pointing. "I won't come with you...I don't like them much, they always chase me when I get too close..."

I gave her the thumbs-up to show my thanks and set off once more, careful to swim a bit higher over the weed to avoid any more grindylows that might be lurking there.  
I swam on for what felt like at least twenty minutes. I was passing over vast expanses of black mud now, which swirled murkily as I disturbed the water. Then, at long last, I heard a snatch of haunting mersong.

"An hour long you'll have to look, And to recover what we took..."

I swam faster and soon saw a large rock emerge out of the muddy water ahead. It had paintings of merpeople on it; they were carrying spears and chasing what looked like the giant squid. I swam on past the rock, following the mersong.

"...your time's half gone, so tarry not Lest what you seek stays here to rot..."

A cluster of crude stone dwellings stained with algae loomed suddenly out of the gloom on all sides. Here and there at the dark windows, I saw faces...faces that bore no resemblance at all to the painting of the mermaid in the prefects' bathroom...

The merpeople had grayish skin and long, wild, dark green hair. Their eyes were yellow, as were their broken teeth, and they wore thick ropes of pebbles around their necks. They leered at me as I swam past; one or two of them emerged from their caves to watch me better, their powerful, silver fish tails beating the water, spears clutched in their hands.

I sped on, staring around, and soon the dwellings became more numerous; there were gardens of weed around some of them, and he even saw a pet grindylow tied to a stake outside one door. Merpeople were emerging on all sides now, watching me eagerly, pointing at my dolphin tail and gills, talking behind their hands to one another. I sped around a corner and a very strange sight met my eyes.

A whole crowd of merpeople were floating in front of the houses that lined what looked like a mer-version of a village square. A choir of merpeople were singing in the middle, calling the champions toward them, and behind them rose a crude sort of statue; a gigantic merperson hewn from a boulder. Four people and a small dragon shaped form were bound tightly to the tail of the stone merperson. 

Ron was tied between Hermione and Cho Chang and Drake was tucked between Cho and a girl who looked no older than eight, whose clouds of silvery hair made me feel sure that she was Fleur Delacour's sister. All five of them appeared to be in a very deep sleep. Their heads were lolling onto their shoulders, and fine streams of bubbles kept issuing from their mouths.

I sped toward the hostages, half expecting the merpeople to lower their spears and charge at at me, but they did nothing. The ropes of weed tying the hostages to the statue were thick, slimy, and very strong. 

I screamed as Harry came up behind me, scaring the living daylights out of me. He motioned to me and we looked around. Many of the merpeople surrounding us were carrying spears. We swam swiftly toward two seven-foot-tall mermen with long green beards and chokers of shark fangs and tried to mime a request to borrow their spears. The mermen laughed and shook their heads.

"We do not help," one said in a harsh, croaky voice.

"Come ON!" I said fiercely (but only bubbles issued from my mouth), and I tried to pull the spear away from the merman, but the merman yanked it back, still shaking his head and laughing.

Harr and I swirled around, staring about. 

Something sharp...anything...Screw this! I thought to myself. I swam towards my dragon and pointed my wand at the ropes that were binding him. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Harry diving down to pick up a rock. I covered a length of the rope with one hand and reached deep within me to the part of me that still scared me and smiled as I felt my hand blaze with heat and the ropes fell apart and I was able to grab Drake and pull him into my arms. 

I glanced around again to see that Harry was hacking away at Ron's ropes, but there was no sign of any of the other champions.

What were they playing at? Why didn't they hurry up? I turned back to the young girl, raised my hand and started to heat it up -  
At once, several pairs of strong gray hands seized me. Half a dozen mermen were pulling me away from the girl, shaking their green-haired heads, and laughing.

"You take your own hostage," one of them said to me and Harry; who I could see had also been yanked away as hw tried to free Hermione. "Leave the others..." "No way!" I said furiously - but only two large bubbles came out.

"Your task is to retrieve your own friend...leave the others..." 

"They're my friends too!" I yelled, gesturing toward (well technically only Hermione was, but that was besides the point) an enormous silver bubble emerging soundlessly from my lips. "And I don't want them to die either!"

Cho's head was on Hermiones shoulder; the small silver-haired girl was ghostly green and pale. Harry and I struggled to fight off the mermen, but they laughed harder than ever, holding us back. I looked wildly around. Where were the other champions? Would we have time to take Drake and Ron to the surface and come back down for Hermione and the others? Would we be able to find them again? I looked down at my watch to see how much time was left - it had stopped working.

But then the merpeople around me pointed excitedly over my head. I looked up and saw Cedric swimming toward us. There was an enormous bubble around his head, which made his features look oddly wide and stretched, but still ruggedly handsome. 

"Got lost!" he mouthed, looking panic-stricken. 

"Fleur and Krum're coming now!"

Feeling enormously relieved, I watched Cedric pull a knife out of his pocket and cut Cho free. He pulled her upward and out of sight. I felt an odd tug at my heart as I watched him carry her off as ai realized that she was the one he would miss the most...I had done a royal job of reading into our relationship...I shook my head...there were far more important things to worry about right now than my pathetic excuse for a love life, besides, things between Harry and I were finally seeming to go somewhere if our time in the prefects bathroom was any indication!

I looked around, waiting. Where were Fleur and Krum? Time was getting short, and according to the song, the hostages would be lost after an hour...

The merpeople started screeching animatedly. 

Those holding Harry and I loosened their grip, staring behind us. I turned and saw something monstrous cutting through the water toward us: a human body in swimming trunks with the head of a shark...It was Krum. He appeared to have transfigured himself like I had, but badly.

The shark-man swam straight to Hermione and began snapping and biting at her ropes; the trouble was that Krum's new teeth were positioned very awkwardly for biting anything smaller than a dolphin, and I was quite sure that if Krum wasn't careful, he was going to rip Hermione in half. I grabbed Harry's arm and gestures towards his rock. Darting forward. Harry hit Krum hard on the shoulder and held up the jagged stone. Krum seized it and began to cut Hermione free. Within seconds, he had done it; he grabbed Hermione around the waist, and without a backward glance, began to rise rapidly with her toward the surface.  
Now what? I thought desperately. If I could be sure that Fleur was coming...But still no sign. There was nothing to be done except...I looked at Harry and we shared a meaningful look before rushing into motion. I darted towards the girl as Harry pulled out his wand and stood between me and the merfolk.

I burned the ropes away and grabbed the girl as Harry fended of the mermen who scattered in fright at the sight of Harry's wand.

Together, we kicked off from the bottom and made our way to the surface.

It was very slow work. I could no longer use my hands to propel myself forward; I worked my tail furiously, but Drake and Fleur's sister were like potato-filled sacks dragging meback down, even with Harry there to help with half the weight - he also had Ron to deal with and wasn't faring any better. I fixed my eyes skyward, though I knew we must still be very deep, the water above us was so dark,...

Merpeople were rising with us. I could see them swirling around us with ease, watching as we struggled through the water. 

Would they pull us back down to the depths when the time was up? Did they perhaps eat humans? My tail was seizing up with the effort to keep swimming; my shoulders were aching horribly with the effort of dragging Drake (who was surprisingly heavy for such a small creature) and the girl...

I was drawing breath with extreme difficulty. 

I could feel pain on the sides of my neck again...and I was becoming very aware of how wet the water was in my mouth...yet the darkness was definitely thinning now...I could see daylight above me...

I kicked hard with my tail and discovered that it was nothing more than feet...water was flooding through my mouth into my lungs...I was starting to feel dizzy, but I knew light and air were only ten feet above me...I had to get there...I had to...I kicked my legs so hard and fast it felt as though my muscles were screaming in protest; my very brain felt waterlogged, I couldn't breathe, I needed oxygen, I had to keep going, I could not stop -

And then I felt my head break the surface of the lake; wonderful, cold, clear air was making my wet face sting; I gulped it down, feeling as though I had never breathed properly before, and, panting, pulled Drake and the little girl up with me and Harry. All around me, wild, green-haired heads were emerging out of the water with us, but they were smiling.

The crowd in the stands was making a great deal of noise; shouting and screaming, they all seemed to be on their feet; I had the impression they thought that Ron, Drake, and the little girl might be dead, but they were wrong...all three of them had opened their eyes; the girl looked scared and confused, but Ron merely expelled a great spout of water, blinked in the bright light, turned to Harry, and said, "Wet, this, isn't it?" Then he spotted Fleur's sister. "What did you bring her for?" Drake just looked at me a flew up and onto my shoulder, fixing his weight so that I barely felt it.

"Fleur didn't turn up, we couldn't leave her," Harry and I panted.

"You prats," said Ron, "you didn't take that song thing seriously, did you? Dumbledore wouldn't have let any of us drown!"

"The song said -"

"It was only to make sure you got back inside the time limit!" said Ron. "I hope you two didn't waste time down there acting the hero!"

I felt both stupid and annoyed. It was all very well for Ron; he'd been asleep, he hadn't felt how eerie it was down in the lake, surrounded by spear-carrying merpeople who'd looked more than capable of murder.

"C'mon," Harry said shortly, "help us with her, I don't think she can swim very well."

We pulled Fleur's sister through the water, back toward the bank where the judges stood watching, twenty merpeople accompanying us like a guard of honor, singing their horrible screechy songs.

I could see Madam Pomfrey fussing over Hermione, Krum, Cedric, and Cho, all of whom were wrapped in thick blankets.

Grandfather and Ludo Bagman stood beaming at Harry, Ron, and I from the bank as they swam nearer, but Percy, who looked very white and somehow much younger than usual, came splashing out to meet us. Meanwhile Madame Maxime was trying to restrain Fleur Delacour, who was quite hysterical, fighting tooth and nail to return to the water.

"Gabrielle! Gabrielle! Is she alive? Is she 'urt?"

"She's fine!" Harry and I tried to tell her, but I was so exhausted I could hardly talk, let alone shout.

Percy seized Ron and was dragging him back to the bank ("Gerroff, Percy, I'm all right!"); Bagman was pulling Harry upright; Fleur had broken free of Madame Maxime and was hugging her sister, and Grandfather gently helped me and something about his tender touch made me feel rejuvenated and energized again, though ever so cold, as water dripped down my body.

"It was ze grindylows...zey attacked me...oh Gabrielle, I thought...I thought..."

"Come here, you," said Madam Pomfrey. She seized Harry and I and pulled us over to Hermione and the others, wrapped us so tightly in blankets that I felt as though I were in a straitjacket, and forced a measure of very hot potion down my throat. Steam gushed out of my ears.

"Harry, Katrina, well done!" Hermione cried. "You did it, you found out how all by yourself!"

"Well -" I heard Harry say. I looked at him in suspicion as I heard him pause. Then I noticed Karkaroff watching us intently. "Yeah, that's right," said Harry, raising his voice slightly so that Karkaroff could hear him.

"You haff a water beetle in your hair, Herm-own-ninny," said Krum. I had the impression that Krum was drawing her attention back onto himself; perhaps to remind her that he had just rescued her from the lake, but Hermione brushed away the beetle impatiently and said, "You two are well outside the time limit, though,...did it take you ages to find us?"

"No...we found you okay..."

My feeling of stupidity was growing. Now I was out of the water, it seemed perfectly clear that Grandfather's safety precautions wouldn't have permitted the death of a hostage just because their champion hadn't turned up. Why hadn't I just grabbed Drake and gone? I would have been first back, followed shortly by Harry...Cedric and Krum hadn't wasted time worrying about anyone else; they hadn't taken the mersong seriously...

Grandfather was crouching at the water's edge, deep in conversation with what seemed to be the chief merperson, a particularly wild and ferocious-looking female. He was making the same sort of screechy noises that the merpeople made when they were above water; clearly, Dumbledore could speak Mermish. Finally he straightened up, turned to his fellow judges, and said, "A conference before we give the marks, I think."

The judges went into a huddle. Madam Pomfrey had gone to rescue Ron from Percy's clutches; she led him over to Harry and the others, gave him a blanket and some Pepperup Potion, then went to fetch Fleur and her sister. Fleur had many cuts on her face and arms and her robes were torn, but she didn't seem to care, nor would she allow Madam Pomfrey to clean them.

"Look after Gabrielle," she told her, and then she turned to Harry and myself. "You saved 'er," she said breathlessly. "Even though she was not your 'ostage."

"Yeah," I said, heartily wishing we'd left all three girls tied to the statue.

Fleur bent down, kissed Harry twice on each cheek, repeated the process with me, then said to Ron, "And you too-you 'elped -" I felt a warm sensation roll throughout my body at the sight of her kissing Harry's cheeks that had nothing to do with the Pepperup Potion. Harry glanced at me and smirked as he pulled me into his arms.

"Don't worry, hot stuff, you're the only girl for me, now if only I could get you alone and all to myself..." he whispered into my ear.

"Harry!" I exclaimed at his brazenness. I'd never heard him talk like this before! I looked at him, to find him staring hungrily at me as he watched stray water droplets roll down from my bathing suit to my body and to the ground. It was the same look he had given me when we were swimming over the summer at the burrow and I was finally starting to slowly understand what it might be...

"Yeah," said Ron, looking extremely hopeful, "yeah, a bit -"

Fleur swooped down on him too and kissed him. Hermione looked simply furious, but just then, Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice boomed out beside us, making us all jump, and causing the crowd in the stands to go very quiet.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows...

"Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points."

Applause from the stands.

"I deserved zero," said Fleur throatily, shaking her magnificent head.

"Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour."

Enormous cheers from the Hufflepuffs in the crowd; I saw Cho give Cedric a glowing look, but the feeling I had early was pushed aside as Harry wrapped his arms tightly around me. "We therefore award him forty-seven points."

My heart sank. If Cedric had been outside the time limit, we most certainly had been.

"Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points."  
Karkaroff clapped particularly hard, looking very superior.

"Harry Potter used gillyweed to great effect, and Katrina also used Transfiguration; the likes of which haven't been seen for a very long time," Bagman continued. "They returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Ms. Katrina and Mr. Harry Potter were first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in their return was due to their determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely their own."

Ron and Hermione both gave Harry and I half-exasperated, half-commiserating looks.

"Most of the judges," and here, Bagman gave Karkaroff a very nasty look, "feel that this shows moral fiber and merits full marks. However...Ms. Katrina's score is forty-six and Mr. Potter's score is forty-five points."

My stomach leapt - I was now tying for first place with Cedric, with Harry one point behind. Ron and Hermione, caught by surprise, stared at Harry and I, then laughed and started applauding hard with the rest of the crowd.

"There you go!" Ron shouted over the noise. "You two weren't being thick after all - you were showing moral fiber!"

I looked at Harry and smirked, "you don't mind that I beat you by a point, do you?" 

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Princess," he laughed, pulling me in even closer.

Fleur was clapping very hard too, but Krum didn't look happy at all. He attempted to engage Hermione in conversation again, but she was too busy cheering Harry and I to listen.

"The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June," continued Bagman. "The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions."

It was over. I thought dazedly, as Madam Pomfrey began herding the champions and hostages back to the castle to get into dry clothes...it was over, I had got through...I didn't have to worry about anything now until June the twenty-fourth...

********************************************

AN - Hope you guys liked this new chapter! Sorry for the delay, I was busy graduating college and moving into a new house and work etc etc! But hopefully I will be able to start updating more regularly again! Let me know what you think of this latest chapter! I tried to switch things up a little now that Kat is in the picture but wasnt sure it if turned out very well so I threw in a little Harry/Kat moments to make up for the fact that it might not have been as big of a twist as the first task was! Anyways share, like, and let me know whether or not you like the story so far or if there is anything I can do to improve! Haven't been focusing on editing etc otherwise I would never get a single chapter out so just keep that in mind. lol


	85. Padfoot Returns

Katrina's POV

One of the best things about the aftermath of the second task was that everybody was very keen to hear details of what had happened down in the lake, which meant that Ron was getting to share Harry's and my limelight for once. I was thankful for this since it meant that for the first time since Rita Skeeter had revealed my secret, people were ignoring me for Ron. I noticed that Ron's version of events changed subtly with every retelling. At first, he gave what seemed to be the truth; it tallied with Hermione and Drake's story, anyway - that Grandfather had put all the hostages into a bewitched sleep in Professor McGonagall's office, first assuring them that they would be quite safe, and would awake when they were back above the water. 

One week later, however, Ron was telling a thrilling tale of kidnap in which he struggled single-handedly against fifty heavily armed merpeople who had to beat him into submission before tying him up.

"But I had my wand hidden up my sleeve," he assured Padma Patil, who seemed to be a lot keener on Ron now that he was getting so much attention and was making a point of talking to him every time they passed in the corridors. "I could've taken those mer-idiots any time I wanted."

"What were you going to do, snore at them?" said Hermione waspishly. People had been teasing her so much about being the thing that Viktor Krum would most miss that she was in a rather tetchy mood. I myself had been teasing Harry relentlessly about him missing Ron more than me, though he always replied that it was only because I was also a champion that he hadn't gotten the chance to rescue me.

Ron's ears went red, and thereafter, he reverted to the bewitched sleep version of events.

As we entered March the weather became drier, but cruel winds skinned our hands and faces every time we went out onto the grounds. There were delays in the post because the owls kept being blown off course. The brown owl that Harry and I had sent to Sirius with the dates of the Hogsmeade weekend turned up at breakfast on Friday morning with half its feathers sticking up the wrong way; Harry had no sooner torn off Sirius's reply than it took flight, clearly afraid it was going to be sent outside again. Poor little guy, I thought as I watched him fly off towards the Owlery.

Sirius's letter was almost as short as the previous one.

Be at stile at end of road out of Hogsmeade (past Dervish and Banges) at two o'clock on Saturday afternoon. Bring as much food as you can.

"He hasn't come back to Hogsmeade?" said Ron incredulously. "It looks like it, doesn't it?" said Hermione.

"I can't believe him," said Harry tensely, "if he's caught. . ."

"Made it so far, though, hasn't he?" said Ron. "And it's not like the place is swarming with dementors anymore."

I folded up the letter, thinking. If I was honest with myself, I really wanted to see my father again. I therefore approached the final lesson of the afternoon - double Potions - feeling considerably more cheerful than I usually ever since my scar had been revealed; causing me to be stared at everywhere I went.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing in a huddle outside the classroom door with Pansy Parkinson's gang of Slytherin girls. All of them were looking at something I couldn't see and sniggering heartily. Pansys pug-like face peered excitedly around Goyle's broad back as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I approached.

"There they are, there they are!" she giggled, and the knot of Slytherins broke apart. I saw that Pansy had a magazine in her hands - Witch Weekly. The moving picture on the front showed a curly-haired witch who was smiling toothily and pointing at a large sponge cake with her wand.

"You might find something to interest you in there, Katrina, Granger!" Pansy said loudly, and she threw the magazine at Hermione, who caught it, looking startled. At that moment, the dungeon door opened, and Snape beckoned us all inside.

Hermione, Harry, Ron, and I headed for a table at the back of the dungeon as usual. Once Snape had turned his back on us to write up the ingredients of todays potion on the blackboard, Hermione hastily rifled through the magazine under the desk. At last, in the center pages, Hermione found what we were looking for. Harry and Ron leaned in closer. A color photograph of Harry headed a short piece entitled:

Harry Potter's Secret Heartaches  
A boy like no other, perhaps - yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Katrina; the recently discovered girl-who-lived. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss.

Miss Granger, a longtime friend of Harry's, and a plain but ambitious girl, along with Kat, as she is known as, seem to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has "never felt this way about any other girl."

However, it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate boys' interest.

"She's really ugly," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it."  
Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. 

And it has been noted by many that the devilishly handsome Cedric Diggory is absolutely smitten with Kat until she broke his heart by taking the young Draco Malfoy to the Yule Ball. If this wasn't enough, she then went on to break Draco's heart when she started dating Mr. Harry Potter. Harry Potters well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart on worthier candidates.

"I told you!" Ron hissed at Hermione and I as we stared down at the article. "I told you not to annoy Rita Skeeter! She's made you two out to be some sort of-of scarlet women!"

Hermione stopped looking astonished and snorted with laughter. "Scarlet women?" she repeated, shaking with suppressed giggles as she looked around at Ron.

"It's what my mum calls them," Ron muttered, his ears going red.

"If that's the best Rita can do, she's losing her touch," said Hermione, still giggling, as she threw Witch Weekly onto the empty chair beside her. "What a pile of old rubbish."   
She looked over at the Slytherins, who were all watching her and I looked at Harry closely to see if he had been upset by the article. He just smiled at me and squeezed my hand reassuringly. Hermione gave the Slytherins a sarcastic smile and a wave, and she, Harry, Ron, and I started unpacking the ingredients we would need for their Wit-Sharpening Potion.

"There's something funny, though," said Hermione ten minutes later, holding her pestle suspended over a bowl of scarab beetles. "How could Rita Skeeter have known...?"

"Known what?" said Ron quickly. "You haven't been mixing up Love Potions, have you?" I laughed.

"Don't be stupid," Hermione snapped, starting to pound up her beetles again. "No, it's just... how did she know Viktor asked me to visit him over the summer?"

Hermione blushed scarlet as she said this and determinedly avoided Ron's eyes. "What?" said Ron, dropping his pestle with a loud clunk.

"He asked me right after he'd pulled me out of the lake," Hermione muttered. "After he'd got rid of his shark's head. Madam Pomfrey gave us both blankets and then he sort of pulled me away from the judges so they wouldn't hear, and he said, if I wasn't doing anything over the summer, would I like to -"

"And what did you say?" said Ron, who had picked up his pestle and was grinding it on the desk, a good six inches from his bowl, because he was looking at Hermione. I smirked at this, realizing that Ron was most likely jealous.

"And he did say he'd never felt the same way about anyone else," Hermione went on, going so red now that I could almost feel the heat coming from her, "but how could Rita Skeeter have heard him? She wasn't there...or was she? Maybe she has got an Invisibility Cloak; maybe she sneaked onto the grounds to watch the second task..."

"And what did you say?" Ron repeated, pounding his pestle down so hard that it dented the desk. I covered my mouth to stop myself from bursting into laughter.

"Well, I was too busy seeing whether you and Harry were okay to-"

"Fascinating though your social life undoubtedly is. Miss Granger," said an icy voice right behind them, and all three of them jumped, "I must ask you not to discuss it in my class. Ten points from Gryffindor."

Snape had glided over to their desk while they were talking. The whole class was now looking around at them; Draco took the opportunity to flash POTTER STINKS across the dungeon at Harry.

"Ah...reading magazines under the table as well?" Snape added, snatching up the copy of Witch Weekly. "A further ten points from Gryffindor...oh but of course..." Sev's black eyes glittered as they fell on Rita Skeeter's article. "Potter has to keep up with his press cuttings..."

The dungeon rang with the Slytherins' laughter, and an unpleasant smile curled Snape's thin mouth. To my fury, my godfather began to read the article aloud.

"'Harry Potter's Secret Heartache...dear, dear. Potter, what's ailing you now? 'A boy like no other, perhaps...'"

I could see Harry's face burning. Sev was pausing at the end of every sentence to allow the Slytherins a hearty laugh. The article sounded ten times worse when read by Snape, though I didn't fail to notice how he skipped over any mention of me...I rolled my eyes at this, thought I couldn't deny that I was glad for it. Even Hermione was blushing scarlet now, I sent her an apologetic look and she just waved it off but I could tell that it was getting to her.   
"'...Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart upon a worthier candidate.' How very touching," sneered Snape, rolling up the magazine to continued gales of laughter from the Slytherins. "Well, I think I had better separate you, so you can keep your minds on your potions rather than on your tangled love lives. Weasley, you stay here. Miss Granger, over there, beside Miss Parkinson. Potter - that table in front of my desk. Katrina, with Draco. Move. Now."

Furious, I threw my ingredients and my bag into my cauldron and dragged it over to Draco's table reluctantly. I still hadn't forgiven him for what he had done to me. I resumed the mashing of my scarab beetles, imagining each one to have Draco's face.

"Katrina, I'm sorry will you please talk to me!" I didn't answer. I was watching Harry and my godfather. We were close enough that I could listen in on their conversation.

"You might be laboring under the delusion that the entire wizarding world is impressed with you," Snape was saying, "but I don't care how many times your picture appears in the papers. To me. Potter, you are nothing but a nasty little boy who considers rules to be beneath him."

I tipped the powdered beetles into my cauldron and started cutting up my ginger roots. My hands were shaking slightly out of anger, but I kept my eyes down, as though I couldn't hear what my godfather was saying to Harry.

"So I give you fair warning, Potter," Snape continued in a sorter and more dangerous voice, "pint-sized celebrity or not - if I catch you breaking into my office one more time -"

"I haven't been anywhere near your office!" said Harry angrily.

"Don't lie to me," Snape hissed, his fathomless black eyes boring into Harrys. "Boomslang skin. Gillyweed. Both come from my private stores, and I know who stole them." I sucked in a deep breath as I remembered what Harry had told me about Dobby giving him gillyweed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry lied coldly.

"You were out of bed on the night my office was broken into!" Snape hissed. "I know it. Potter! Now, Mad-Eye Moody might have joined your fan club, but I will not tolerate your behavior! One more nighttime stroll into my office, Potter, and you will pay!"

"Right," I heard Harry say coolly, turning back to his ginger roots. "I'll bear that in mind if I ever get the urge to go in there."

Snape's eyes flashed. He plunged a hand into the inside of his black robes. For one wild moment, I thought Snape was about to pull out his wand and curse him - then I saw that Snape had drawn out a small crystal bottle of a completely clear potion. I stared at it. Was that what I thought it was?!

"Do you know what this is. Potter?" Snape said, his eyes glittering dangerously again.

"No," said Harry, with complete honesty this time. I did...I stood up abruptly and walked over to them.

"I gave Harry the gillyweed, Professor! I was going to use it for myself for the second task before I was able to learn how to transfigure myself, he didn't steal it!" I said. Snape whipped around to look at me. He stared me down and I stared right back hoping he wouldn't see right through me, but it was a lost cause. I knew he could see right through my but I never knew how...As always, he refused to acknowledge my words.

"It is Veritaserum - a Truth Potion so powerful that three drops would have you spilling your innermost secrets for this entire class to hear," said Snape viciously. "Now, the use of this potion is controlled by very strict Ministry guidelines. But unless you watch your step, you might just find that my hand slips" - he shook the crystal bottle slightly - "right over your evening pumpkin juice. And then. Potter...then we'll find out whether you've been in my office or not." 

Harry said nothing. He turned back to his ginger roots once more, picked up his knife, and started slicing them again. 

There was a knock on the dungeon door. 

"Enter," said Snape in his usual voice.

The class looked around as the door opened. Professor Karkaroff came in. We all watched him as he walked up toward Snape's desk. He was twisting his finger around his goatee and looking agitated.

"We need to talk," said Karkaroff abruptly when he had reached Snape. He seemed so determined that nobody should hear what he was saying that he was barely opening his lips; it was as though he were a rather poor ventriloquist. I kept my eyes on my ginger roots, listening hard.

"I'll talk to you after my lesson, Karkaroff," my godfather muttered, but Karkaroff interrupted him.

"I want to talk now, while you can't slip off, Severus. You've been avoiding me." 

"After the lesson," Snape snapped.

Under the pretext of holding up a measuring cup to see if I'd poured out enough armadillo bile, I sneaked a sidelong glance at the pair of them. Karkaroff looked extremely worried, and my godfather looked angry.

Karkaroff hovered behind Snape's desk for the rest of the double period. He seemed intent on preventing Snape from slipping away at the end of class. I saw Harry deliberately knock over his bottle of armadillo bile with two minutes to go to the bell, so I gathered up my stuff and headed out when the bell rang, figuring that he would fill me in afterwards. 

********************************************

We left the castle at noon the next day to find a weak silver sun shining down upon the grounds. The weather was milder than it had been all year, and by the time we arrived in Hogsmeade, all four of us had taken off our cloaks and thrown them over our shoulders. The food Sirius had told us to bring was in Harry's bag; we had sneaked a dozen chicken legs, a loaf of bread, and a flask of pumpkin juice from the lunch table.

We went into Gladrags Wizardwear to buy a present for Dobby, where we had fun selecting the most lurid socks we could find, including a pair patterned with flashing gold and silver stars, and another that screamed loudly when they became too smelly. Then, at half past one, we made our way up the High Street, past Dervish and Banges, and out toward the edge of the village.

I had never been in this direction before.   
The winding lane was leading us out into the wild countryside around Hogsmeade. The cottages were fewer here, and their gardens larger; we were walking toward the foot of the mountain in whose shadow Hogsmeade lay.   
Then we turned a corner and saw a stile at the end of the lane. Waiting for us, its' front paws on the topmost bar, was a very large, shaggy black dog, which was carrying some newspapers in its mouth and looking very familiar...

"Hello, Sirius," said Harry when we had reached him.

"Father!" I shouted, running over to pet him. He wagged his tail and then licked my face.

Then he sniffed Harry's bag eagerly, wagged his tail once more, then turned and began to trot away from us across the scrubby patch of ground that rose to meet the rocky foot of the mountain. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I climbed over the stile and followed.

Sirius led us to the very foot of the mountain, where the ground was covered with boulders and rocks. It was easy for him, with his four paws, but Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I were soon out of breath. We followed Sirius higher, up onto the mountain itself. For nearly half an hour we climbed a steep, winding, and stony path, following Sirius's wagging tail, sweating in the sun.

Then, at last, Sirius slipped out of sight, and when we reached the place where he had vanished, we saw a narrow fissure in the rock.   
We squeezed into it and found ourselves in a cool, dimly lit cave. Tethered at the end of it, one end of his rope around a large rock, was Buckbeak the hippogriff; who was also my mom - well just her spirit...Half gray horse, half giant eagle, Buckbeak's fierce blue eyes that mirrored my own flashed at the sight of us. All four of us bowed low to him, and after regarding us imperiously for a moment, Buckbeak bent his scaly front knees and allowed me to rush forward and stroke his feathery neck. I stroked his feathers  
as I looked into his eyes. If only Voldemort hadn't murdered my mom, we wouldn't be in this position. Buckbeak stuck his head out and sniffed my face before nudging me forward towards my friends.

I watched the black dog, which had just turned into my father.

Sirius was wearing ragged gray robes; the same ones he had been wearing when he had left Azkaban. His black hair was longer than it had been when he had appeared in the fire, and it was untidy and matted once more. He looked very thin.

"Chicken!" he said hoarsely after removing the old Daily Prophets from his mouth and throwing them down onto the cave floor.

Harry pulled open his bag and handed over the bundle of chicken legs and bread.

"Thanks," said Sirius, opening it, grabbing a drumstick, sitting down on the cave floor, and tearing off a large chunk with his teeth. "I've been living off rats mostly. Can't steal too much food from Hogsmeade; I'd draw attention to myself."

He grinned up at Harry and I, but as happy as I was to see my father alive, I returned the grin only reluctantly. "What're you doing here, Sirius?" Harry said, sharing my sentiments.

"Fulfilling my duty as a father and as a godfather," said Sirius, gnawing on the chicken bone in a very doglike way. "Don't worry about it, I'm pretending to be a lovable stray."

He was still grinning, but seeing the anxiety in our faces, said more seriously, "I want to be on the spot. Your last letter...well, let's just say things are getting fishier. I've been stealing the paper every time someone throws one out, and by the looks of things, I'm not the only one who's getting worried."

He nodded at the yellowing Daily Prophets on the cave floor, and Ron picked them up and unfolded them. I, however, continued to stare at my father.

"What if they catch you? What if you're seen?"

"You four and Dumbledore are the only ones around here who know I'm an Animagus," said Sirius, shrugging, and continuing to devour the chicken leg.

Ron nudged Harry and passed him the Daily Prophets. There were two: The first bore the headline Mystery Illness of Bartemius Crouch, the second, Ministry Witch Still Missing -Minister of Magic Now Personally Involved.  
Harry and I scanned the story about Crouch. Phrases jumped out at me: hasn't been seen in public since November...house appears deserted...St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries decline comment...Ministry refuses to confirm rumors of critical illness...

"They're making it sound like he's dying," said Harry slowly. "But he can't be that ill if he managed to get up here..."

"My brothers Crouch's personal assistant," Ron informed Sirius. "He says Crouch is suffering from overwork."

"Mind you, he did look ill, last time I saw him up close," I said slowly, still reading the story. "The night our names came out of the goblet..."

"Getting his comeuppance for sacking Winky, isn't he?" said Hermione, an edge to her voice. She was stroking Buckbeak, who was crunching up Sirius's chicken bones. "I bet he wishes he hadn't done it now - bet he feels the difference now she's not there to look after him."

"Hermione's obsessed with house-elfs," Ron muttered to Sirius, casting Hermione a dark look. Sirius, however, looked interested.

"Crouch sacked his house-elf?"

"Yeah, at the Quidditch World Cup," I said, and I launched into the story of the Dark Mark's appearance, and Winky being found with Harry's wand clutched in her hand, and Mr. Crouch's fury. For my father's sake, however, I skipped past the part about my getting kidnapped in the middle of the night and knocked unconscious. If my father was willing to travel all this way based on a few notes, I dreaded to think what he would be willing to do if he found out that bit of news! I did NOT want to be the reason my father died like I was my mother! I wouldn't survive that knowledge...

When I had finished, Sirius was on his feet again and had started pacing up and down the cave.

"Let me get this straight," he said after a while, brandishing a fresh chicken leg. "You first saw the elf in the Top Box. She was saving Crouch a seat, right?"

"Right," said Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I together.

"But Crouch didn't turn up for the match?"

"No," said Harry. "I think he said he'd been too busy."

Sirius paced all around the cave in silence.   
Then he said, "Harry, did you check your pockets for your wand after you'd left the Top Box?"

"Erm..." I watched as Harry thought hard. "No," he said finally. "I didn't need to use it before we got in the forest. And then I put my hand in my pocket, and all that was in there were my Omnioculars." He stared at Sirius. "Are you saying whoever conjured the Mark stole my wand in the Top Box?"

"It's possible," said Sirius.

"Winky didn't steal that wand!" Hermione and I insisted.

"The elf wasn't the only one in that box," said Sirius, his brow furrowed as he continued to pace. "Who else was sitting behind you?"

"Loads of people," said Harry. "Some Bulgarian ministers...Cornelius Fudge...the Malfoys..."

"The Malfoys!" said Ron suddenly, so loudly that his voice echoed all around the cave, and Buckbeak tossed his head nervously. "I bet it was Lucius Malfoy!"

"Anyone else?" said Sirius.

"No one," said Harry.

"Yes, there was, there was Ludo Bagman," Hermione reminded him.

"Oh yeah..."

"I don't know anything about Bagman except that he used to be Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps," said Sirius, still pacing. "What's he like?"

"He's okay," said Harry. "He keeps offering to help Kat and I with the Triwizard Tournament."

"Does he, now?" said Sirius, frowning more deeply. "I wonder why he'd do that?"

"Says he's taken a liking to us," said Harry.

"Hmm," said Sirius, looking thoughtful.

"We saw him in the forest just before the Dark Mark appeared," Hermione told Sirius.   
"Remember?" she said to Harry, Ron, and I.

"Yeah, but he didn't stay in the forest, did he?" said Ron. "The moment we told him about the riot, he went off to the campsite."

"How d'you know?" Hermione shot back. "How d'you know where he Disapparated to?"

"Come off it," said Ron incredulously. "Are you saying you reckon Ludo Bagman conjured the Dark Mark?"

"It's more likely he did it than Winky," said Hermione stubbornly.

"Told you," said Ron, looking meaningfully at Sirius, "told you she's obsessed with house -"  
But Sirius held up a hand to silence Ron.

"When the Dark Mark had been conjured, and the elf had been discovered holding Harry's wand, what did Crouch do?"

"Went to look in the bushes," said Harry, "but there wasn't anyone else there."

"Of course," Sirius muttered, pacing up and down, "of course, he'd want to pin it on anyone but his own elf...and then he sacked her?"

"Yes," said Hermione in a heated voice, "he sacked her, just because she hadn't stayed in her tent and let herself get trampled -"

"Hermione, will you give it a rest with the elf!" said Ron.

I glare at Ron. "She's right, Ron! Crouch was an idiot to fire such a loyal servant! Though, if you ask me, he doesn't deserve her unwavering loyalty! Not the way he was treating her!"

Sirius shook his head and said, "They've got the measure of Crouch better than you have, Ron. If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals."

He ran a hand over his unshaven face, evidently thinking hard.

"All these absences of Barty Crouch's...he goes to the trouble of making sure his house-elf saves him a seat at the Quidditch World Cup, but doesn't bother to turn up and watch. He works very hard to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament, and then stops coming to that too...It's not like Crouch. If he's ever taken a day off work because of illness before this, I'll eat Buckbeak." I looked at him flabbergasted, but he smiled reassuringly at me and I huffed while smiling back.

"D'you know Crouch, then?" said Harry.  
My father's face darkened. He suddenly looked as menacing as he had the night when I first met him, the night when I still believed Sirius to be a murderer.

"Oh I know Crouch all right," he said quietly.   
"He was the one who gave the order for me to be sent to Azkaban - without a trial."

"What?" said Ron and Hermione together. 

"You're kidding!" said Harry and I. Hatred  
ran through my veins. I didn't think it was possible to dislike the man anymore than I already had, but I had just been proven wrong. My hands fisted at my sides.

"No, I'm not," said Sirius, taking another great bite of chicken. "Crouch used to be Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, didn't you know?"

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I shook their heads.

"He was tipped for the next Minister of Magic," said Sirius. "He's a great wizard, Barty Crouch, powerfully magical - and power-hungry. Oh never a Voldemort supporter," he said, reading the look on Harry's face. "No, Barty Crouch was always very outspoken against the Dark Side. But then a lot of people who were against the Dark Side...well, you wouldn't understand...you're too young..."

"That's what my dad said at the World Cup," said Ron, with a trace of irritation in his voice. "Try us, why don't you?"

A grin flashed across Sirius's thin face.  
"All right, I'll try you..." He walked once up the cave, back again, and then said, "Imagine that Voldemort's powerful now. You don't know who his supporters are, you don't know who's working for him and who isn't; you know he can control people so that they do terrible things without being able to stop themselves.   
You're scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing...the Ministry of Magic's in disarray, they don't know what to do, they're trying to keep everything hidden from the Muggles, but meanwhile, Muggles are dying too. Terror everywhere...panic...confusion...that's how it used to be.

"Well, times like that bring out the best in some people and the worst in others. Crouch's principles might've been good in the beginning - I wouldn't know. He rose quickly through the Ministry, and he started ordering very harsh measures against Voldemorts supporters. The Aurors were given new powers - powers to kill rather than capture, for instance. And I wasn't the only one who was handed straight to the dementors without trial. Crouch fought violence with violence, and authorized the use of the Unforgivable Curses against suspects. I would say he became as ruthless and cruel as many on the Dark Side. He had his supporters, mind you - plenty of people thought he was going about things the right way, and there were a lot of witches and wizards clamoring for him to take over as Minister of Magic. When Voldemort disappeared, it looked like only a matter of time until Crouch got the top job. But then something rather unfortunate happened..." Sirius smiled grimly. "Crouch's own son was caught with a group of Death Eaters who'd managed to talk their way out of Azkaban. Apparently they were trying to find Voldemort and return him to power."

"Crouch's son was caught?" gasped Hermione.

"Yep," said Sirius, throwing his chicken bone to Buckbeak, flinging himself back down on the ground beside the loaf of bread, and tearing it in half. "Nasty little shock for old Barty, I'd imagine. Should have spent a bit more time at home with his family, shouldn't he? Ought to have left the office early once in a while...gotten to know his own son."

He began to wolf down large pieces of bread. 

"Was his son a Death Eater?" said Harry.

"No idea," said Sirius, still stuffing down bread.   
"I was in Azkaban myself when he was brought in. This is mostly stuff I've found out since I got out. The boy was definitely caught in the company of people I'd bet my life were Death Eaters - but he might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, just like the house-elf."

"Did Crouch try and get his son off?" Hermione whispered. Sirius let out a laugh that was much more like a bark.

"Crouch let his son off? I thought you had the measure of him, Hermione! Anything that threatened to tarnish his reputation had to go; he had dedicated his whole life to becoming Minister of Magic. You saw him dismiss a devoted house-elf because she associated him with the Dark Mark again - doesn't that tell you what he's like? Crouch's fatherly affection stretched just far enough to give his son a trial, and by all accounts, it wasn't much more than an excuse for Crouch to show how much he hated the boy...then he sent him straight to Azkaban."

"He gave his own son to the dementors?" I asked quietly.

"That's right," said Sirius, and he didn't look remotely amused now. "I saw the dementors bringing him in, watched them through the bars in my cell door. He can't have been more than nineteen. They took him into a cell near mine. He was screaming for his mother by nightfall. He went quiet after a few days, though...they all went quiet in the end...except when they shrieked in their sleep..."

For a moment, the deadened look in Sirius's eyes became more pronounced than ever, as though shutters had closed behind them.

"So he's still in Azkaban?" Harry said.

"No," said Sirius dully. "No, he's not in there anymore. He died about a year after they brought him in."

"He died?"

"He wasn't the only one," said Sirius bitterly. "Most go mad in there, and plenty stop eating in the end. They lose the will to live. You could always tell when a death was coming, because the dementors could sense it, they got excited. That boy looked pretty sickly when he arrived. Crouch being an important Ministry member, he and his wife were allowed a deathbed visit. That was the last time I saw Barty Crouch, half carrying his wife past my cell. She died herself, apparently, shortly afterward. Grief. Wasted away just like the boy. Crouch never came for his son's body. The dementors buried him outside the fortress; I watched them do it."  
Sirius threw aside the bread he had just lifted to his mouth and instead picked up the flask of pumpkin juice and drained it.

"So old Crouch lost it all, just when he thought he had it made," he continued, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "One moment, a hero, poised to become Minister of Magic...next, his son dead, his wife dead, the family name dishonored, and, so I've heard since I escaped, a big drop in popularity. Once the boy had died, people started feeling a bit more sympathetic toward the son and started asking how a nice young lad from a good family had gone so badly astray. The conclusion was that his father never cared much for him. So Cornelius Fudge got the top job, and Crouch was shunted sideways into the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

There was a long silence. I was thinking of the way Crouch's eyes had bulged as he'd looked down at his disobedient house-elf back in the wood at the Quidditch World Cup. This, then, must have been why Crouch had overreacted to Winky being found beneath the Dark Mark. It had brought back memories of his son, and the old scandal, and his fall from grace at the Ministry.

"Moody says Crouch is obsessed with catching Dark wizards," Harry told Sirius.

"Yeah, I've heard it's become a bit of a mania with him," said Sirius, nodding. "If you ask me, he still thinks he can bring back the old popularity by catching one more Death Eater."

"And he sneaked up here to search Snape's office!" s aid Ron triumphantly, looking at Hermione.

"Yes, and that doesn't make sense at all," said Sirius.

"Yeah, it does!" said Ron excitedly, but Sirius shook his head.

"Listen, if Crouch wants to investigate Snape, why hasn't he been coming to judge the tournament? It would be an ideal excuse to make regular visits to Hogwarts and keep an eye on him."

"So you think Snape could be up to something, then?" asked Harry, but I broke in.

"Look, I don't care what you say, Dumbledore trusts Snape -"

"Oh give it a rest, Katrina," said Ron impatiently. "I know Dumbledores brilliant and everything, but that doesn't mean a really clever Dark wizard couldn't fool him -"

"Why did Snape save Harry and Katrina's life in the first year, then? Why didn't he just let them die?" said Hermione, backing me up.

"I dunno - maybe he thought Dumbledore would kick him out-"

"What d'you think, Sirius?" Harry said loudly, and Ron and Hermione stopped bickering to listen.

"I think they've all got a point," said Sirius, looking thoughtfully at Ron, Hermione, and I. "Ever since I found out Snape was teaching here, I've wondered why Dumbledore hired him. Snape's always been fascinated by the Dark Arts, he was famous for it at school. Slimy, oily, greasy-haired kid, he was," Sirius added, and I saw Harry and Ron grin at each other. I frowned. That was my godfather they were talking about. The man who had taken me in last summer when he didn't have to!

"Snape knew more curses when he arrived at school than half the kids in seventh year, and he was part of a gang of Slytherins who nearly all turned out to be Death Eaters."  
Sirius held up his fingers and began ticking off names.

"Rosier and Wilkes - they were both killed by Aurors the year before Voldemort fell. The Lestranges - they're a married couple - they're in Azkaban. Avery - from what I've heard he wormed his way out of trouble by saying he'd been acting under the Imperius Curse - he's still at large. But as far as I know, Snape was never even accused of being a Death Eater - not that that means much. Plenty of them were never caught. And Snape s certainly clever and cunning enough to keep himself out of trouble."

"Snape knows Karkaroff pretty well, but he wants to keep that quiet," said Ron.

"Yeah, you should've seen Snape's face when Karkaroff turned up in Potions yesterday!" said Harry quickly. "Karkaroff wanted to talk to Snape, he says Snape's been avoiding him. Karkaroff looked really worried. He showed Snape something on his arm, but I couldn't see what it was."

"He showed Snape something on his arm?" said Sirius, looking frankly bewildered. He ran his fingers distractedly through his filthy hair, then shrugged again. "Well, I've no idea what that's about...but if Karkaroff's genuinely worried, and he's going to Snape for answers..."  
Sirius stared at the cave wall, then made a grimace of frustration.

"There's still the fact that Dumbledore trusts Snape, and I know Dumbledore trusts where a lot of other people wouldn't, but I just can't see him letting Snape teach at Hogwarts if he'd ever worked for Voldemort." I smirked at Ron when he said this, glad that my father didn't completely mistrust my grandfather's judgement about Snape. I wanted my family to get along one day so we could all be happy together once Voldemort was taken care of.

"Why are Moody and Crouch so keen to get into Snape's office then?" said Ron stubbornly.

"Well," said Sirius slowly, "I wouldn't put it past Mad-Eye to have searched every single teacher's office when he got to Hogwarts. He takes his Defense Against the Dark Arts seriously, Moody. I'm not sure he trusts anyone at all, and after the things he's seen, it's not surprising. I'll say this for Moody, though, he never killed if he could help it. Always brought people in alive where possible. He was tough, but he never descended to the level of the Death Eaters. Crouch, though...he's a different matter...is he really ill? If he is, why did he make the effort to drag himself up to Snape's office? And if he's not...what's he up to? What was he doing at the World Cup that was so important he didn't turn up in the Top Box? What's he been doing while he should have been judging the tournament?"

Sirius lapsed into silence, still staring at the cave wall. Buckbeak was ferreting around on the rocky floor, looking for bones he might have overlooked. Finally, Sirius looked up at Ron.

"You say your brother's Crouch's personal assistant? Any chance you could ask him if he's seen Crouch lately?"

"I can try," said Ron doubtfully. "Better not make it sound like I reckon Crouch is up to anything dodgy, though. Percy loves Crouch."

"And you might try and find out whether they've got any leads on Bertha Jorkins while you're at it," said Sirius, gesturing to the second copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Bagman told me they hadn't," said Harry.

"Yes, he's quoted in the article in there," said Sirius, nodding at the paper. "Blustering on about how bad Bertha's memory is. Well, maybe she's changed since I knew her, but the Bertha I knew wasn't forgetful at all - quite the reverse. She was a bit dim, but she had an excellent memory for gossip. It used to get her into a lot of trouble; she never knew when to keep her mouth shut. I can see her being a bit of a liability at the Ministry of Magic...maybe that's why Bagman didn't bother to look for her for so long..."

Sirius heaved an enormous sigh and rubbed his shadowed eyes. "What's the time?"

I checked my watch, then remembered it hadn't been working since it had spent over an hour in the lake.

"It's half past three," said Hermione.

"You'd better get back to school," Sirius said, getting to his feet. "Now listen..." He looked particularly hard at Harry and I. "I don't want you lot sneaking out of school to see me, all right? Just send notes to me here. I still want to hear about anything odd. But you're not to go leaving Hogwarts without permission; it would be an ideal opportunity for someone to attack you."

"No one's tried to attack us so far, except a dragon and a couple of grindylows," Harry said, but Sirius scowled at him.

"I don't care...I'll breathe freely again when this tournament's over, and that's not until June. And don't forget, if you're talking about me among yourselves, call me Snuffles, okay?"  
He handed Harry the empty napkin and flask and went to pat Buckbeak good-bye. "I'll walk to the edge of the village with you," said Sirius, "see if I can scrounge another paper." He motioned for me to join him as he went to pat Buckbeak.

"Come here, my little angelous paulo. Promise me that you will stay out of trouble as best you can! I would like to get the chance to make up for my years of absence when this is all over but I can't very well do that if you are not around!" I hugged him as tightly as I could before bowing to Buckbeak and then kissing him on the beak. "Bye mum, I love you" I whispered to Buckbeak.

My father transformed into the great black dog before we left the cave, and we walked back down the mountainside with him, across the boulder-strewn ground, and back to the stile. Here he allowed each of us to pat him on the head, before turning and setting off at a run around the outskirts of the village. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I made our way back into Hogsmeade and up toward Hogwarts.

"Wonder if Percy knows all that stuff about Crouch?" Ron said as we walked up the drive to the castle. "But maybe he doesn't care...It'd probably just make him admire Crouch even more. Yeah, Percy loves rules. He'd just say Crouch was refusing to break them for his own son."

"Percy would never throw any of his family to the dementors," said Hermione severely.

"I don't know," said Ron. "If he thought we were standing in the way of his career...Percy's really ambitious, you know..."

We walked up the stone steps into the entrance hall, where the delicious smells of dinner wafted toward them from the Great Hall.

"Poor old Snuffles," said Ron, breathing deeply. "He must really like you. Harry...Katrina...Imagine having to live off rats."

********************************************

AN - Hope you guys liked this latest chapter! A lot of exposition, but I tried to throw in a few Kat, Sirius, and mom/Buckbeak moments to break that up so as always, share your thoughts and a new chapter will be coming soon.


	86. The Madness of Mr. Crouch

This chapter is dedicated to DinaRiddle770 who helped me with her suggestion to add Drake to the morning post scene. Thanks for the help!

Katrina's POV

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I went up to the Owlery after breakfast on Sunday to send a letter to Percy, asking, as Sirius had suggested, whether he had seen Mr. Crouch lately. We used Hedwig, because it had been so long since she'd had a job. When we had watched her fly out of sight through the Owlery window, we proceeded down to the kitchen to give Dobby his new socks.

The house-elves gave us a very cheery welcome, bowing and curtsying and bustling around making tea again. Dobby was ecstatic about his present.

"Harry Potter is too good to Dobby!" he squeaked, wiping large tears out of his enormous eyes.

"You saved my life with that gillyweed, Dobby, you really did," said Harry.

"No chance of more of those eclairs, is there?" said Ron, who was looking around at the beaming and bowing house-elves.

"You've just had breakfast!" said Hermione irritably, but a great silver platter of eclairs was already zooming toward us, supported by four elves.

"We should get some stuff to send up to Snuffles," I muttered.

"Good idea," said Ron. "Give Pig something to do. You couldn't give us a bit of extra food, could you?" he said to the surrounding elves, and they bowed delightedly and hurried off to get some more.

"Dobby, where's Winky?" said Hermione, who was looking around.

"Winky is over there by the fire, miss," said Dobby quietly, his ears drooping slightly.

"Oh dear," said Hermione as she spotted Winky.

I looked over at the fireplace too. Winky was sitting on the same stool as last time, but she had allowed herself to become so filthy that she was not immediately distinguishable from the smoke-blackened brick behind her. Her clothes were ragged and unwashed. She was clutching a bottle of butterbeer and swaying slightly on her stool, staring into the fire. As we watched her, she gave an enormous hiccup.

"Winky is getting through six bottles a day now," Dobby whispered to Harry. 

"Well, it's not strong, that stuff," Harry said.  
But Dobby shook his head. "'Tis strong for a house-elf, sir," he said.

Winky hiccuped again. The elves who had brought the eclairs gave her disapproving looks as they returned to work.

"Winky is pining, Harry Potter," Dobby whispered sadly. "Winky wants to go home. Winky still thinks Mr. Crouch is her master, sir, and nothing Dobby says will persuade her that Professor Dumbledore is her master now."

"Hey, Winky," I said, struck by a sudden inspiration, walking over to her, and bending down, "you don't know what Mr. Crouch might be up to, do you? Because he's stopped turning up to judge the Triwizard Tournament."

Winky's eyes flickered. Her enormous pupils focused on me. She swayed slightly again and then said, "M - Master is stopped - hic - coming?"

"Yeah," Harry confirmed, "we haven't seen him since the first task. The Daily Prophet's saying he's ill."

Winky swayed some more, staring blurrily at Harry and I.

"Master- hic- ill?" Her bottom lip began to tremble.

"But we're not sure if that's true," said Hermione quickly.

"Master is needing his - hic - Winky!" whimpered the elf. "Master cannot - hic - manage - hic - all by himself..."

"Other people manage to do their own housework, you know, Winky," Hermione said severely.

"Winky - hic - is not only - hic - doing housework for Mr. Crouch!" Winky squeaked indignantly, swaying worse than ever and slopping butterbeer down her already heavily stained blouse. "Master is - hic - trusting Winky with - hic - the most important - hic - the most secret..."

"What?" said Harry.

But Winky shook her head very hard, spilling more butterbeer down herself.

"Winky keeps - hic - her master's secrets," she said mutinously, swaying very heavily now, frowning up at Harry with her eyes crossed.   
"You is - hic - nosing, you is."

"Winky must not talk like that to Harry Potter!" said Dobby angrily. "Harry Potter is brave and noble and Harry Potter is not nosy!"

"He is nosing - hic - into my master's - hic - private and secret - hic - Winky is a good house-elf- hic - Winky keeps her silence - hic - people trying to - hic - pry and poke - hic -"

Winky's eyelids drooped and suddenly, without warning, she slid off her stool into the hearth, snoring loudly. The empty bottle of butterbeer rolled away across the stone-flagged floor. Half a dozen house-elves came hurrying forward, looking disgusted. One of them picked up the bottle; the others covered Winky with a large checked tablecloth and tucked the ends in neatly, hiding her from view.

"We is sorry you had to see that, sirs and misses!" squeaked a nearby elf, shaking his head and looking very ashamed. "We is hoping you will not judge us all by Winky, sirs and misses!"

"She's unhappy!" said Hermione, exasperated. "Why don't you try and cheer her up instead of covering her up?"

"Begging your pardon, miss," said the house-elf, bowing deeply again, "but house- elves has no right to be unhappy when there is work to be done and masters to be served."

"Oh for heavens sake!" Hermione cried. "Listen to me, all of you! You've got just as much right as wizards to be unhappy! You've got the right to wages and holidays and proper clothes, you don't have to do everything you're told - look at Dobby!" I shook my head. She had a point, but I knew from experience that she was fighting a losing battle.

"Miss will please keep Dobby out of this," Dobby mumbled, looking scared. The cheery smiles had vanished from the faces of the house-elves around the kitchen. They were suddenly looking at Hermione as though she were mad and dangerous.

"We has your extra food!" squeaked an elf at Harry's elbow, and he shoved a large ham, a dozen cakes, and some fruit into Harry's arms. "Good-bye!"

The house-elves crowded around Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I, and began shunting us out of the kitchen, many little hands pushing in the smalls of our backs.

"Thank you for the socks, Harry Potter!" Dobby called miserably from the hearth, where he was standing next to the lumpy tablecloth that was Winky.

"You couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you, Hermione?" said Ron angrily as the kitchen door slammed shut behind them. "They won't want us visiting them now! We could've tried to get more stuff out of Winky about Crouch!"

"Oh as if you care about that!" scoffed Hermione. "You only like coming down here for the food!"

It was an irritable sort of day after that. Harry and I got so tired of Ron and Hermione sniping at each other over their homework in the common room that we took Sirius's food up to the Owlery that evening on our own.

Pigwidgeon was much too small to carry an entire ham up to the mountain by himself, so we enlisted the help of two school screech owls as well. They had set off into the dusk, looking extremely odd carrying the large package between them. Harry leaned on the windowsill, looking out at the grounds, at the dark, rustling treetops of the Forbidden Forest, and the rippling sails of the Durmstrang ship. 

Unwilling to go back to Gryffindor Tower and listen to Ron and Hermione snarling at each other, Harry and I watched Hagrid digging until the darkness swallowed him and the owls around us began to awake, swooshing past us into the night. I snuggled into Harry's side as he wrapped an arm around me and enjoyed the brief moment of peace.

********************************************

By breakfast the next day Ron's and Hermione's bad moods had burnt out, to my relief. 

When the post owls arrived, Hermione and I looked up eagerly.

"Percy won't've had time to answer yet," said Ron. "We only sent Hedwig yesterday."

"No, it's not that," said Hermione. 

"We've taken out subscriptions to the Daily Prophet. We're getting sick of finding everything out from the Slytherins."

"Good thinking!" said Harry, also looking up at the owls. "Hey, Hermione, Katrina, I think you're in luck -"

Two gray owls were soaring down towards Hermione and I.

"They haven't got newspapers, though," I said, disappointed. "It's -"

But to our bewilderment, the gray owls landed in front of our plates, closely followed by four barn owls, a brown owl, and a tawny.

"How many subscriptions did you two take out?" said Harry, seizing my goblet before it was knocked over by the cluster of owls, all of whom were jostling close to Hermione and I, trying to deliver their own letter first.

"What on earth - ?" I said, taking the letter from one of the gray owls, opening it, and starting to read. "Oh really!" I sputtered, my face turning red.

"What's up?" said Ron.

"It,'s - oh how ridiculous -" said Hermione as she read her letter.

I thrust my letter at Harry, which was not handwritten, but composed from pasted letters that seemed to have been cut out of the Daily Prophet. YOU ARE A WICKED GIRL. HARRY POTTER DESERVES BETTER. GO BACK TO WHERE YOU CAME FROM, LIER.

"Lier, what is that supposed to mean? I haven't lied about anything!"

"They're all like it!" said Hermione desperately, opening our letters one after another. "'Harry Potter can do much better than the likes of you...," "You deserve to be boiled in frog spawn..."

I started opening my letters as well. "You are a pathetic lier, you don't deserve to be dating Harry Potter," "Stay strong, Harry Potter loves you, not that hag of a witch he calls a friend," "Liers always get what they deserve in the end..."

"Ouch!" Hermione and I said at the same time. 

She had opened her last envelope, and yellowish-green liquid smelling strongly of petrol gushed over her hands, which began to erupt in large yellow boils.

"Undiluted bubotuber pus!" said Ron, picking up the envelope gingerly and sniffing it.

"Ow!" said Hermione, tears starting in her eyes as she tried to rub the pus off her hands with a napkin, but her fingers were now so thickly covered in painful sores that it looked as though she were wearing a pair of thick, knobbly gloves.

I myself had suffered the effects of a stinging hex and my hands felt as if thousands of tiny needles were being stabbed over and over into my skin. 

"You'd better get up to the hospital wing," said Harry as the owls around Hermione took flight, his face thunderous with rage at the sight of the tears that rolled down my face. "We'll tell Professor Sprout where you've gone..."

Harry's POV

"I warned them!" said Ron as Hermione and Katrina hurried out of the Great Hall, cradling their hands. "I warned them not to annoy Rita Skeeter! Look at this one..." He read out one of the letters Katrina had left behind: "I read In Witch Weekly about how you are playing Harry Potter false and that boy has had enough hardship. Everyone else might think you are the girl-who-lived and that the two of you are meant for each other but I think you are just a dirty lier and I will be sending you a curse by next post as soon as I can find a big enough envelope.' Blimey, she'd better watch out for herself."

I felt my face burn with anger as I realized that half of Katrina's letters were from people accusing her of lying about her scar. The rest were from those who either thought Hermione was trying to date me and offering their sympathy, and others thinking that Kat didn't deserve me! That made me furious. It was the other way around! And I still wasn't even sure if we were officially dating or not since we had never actually gone on a date yet! For all I knew, she wouldn't want to after all of these stupid letters! 

Something swooped down over my shoulder and landed on the table with a thud. It was Drake. With a mighty huff and puff, the little dragon breathed fire all over the stack of envelopes and then sat back on his haunches with a smirk of satisfaction as he watched them all burn to ash.

********************************************

Hermione and Katrina didn't turn up for Herbology. Ron and I left the greenhouse for our Care of Magical Creatures class, we saw Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle descending the stone steps of the castle. Pansy Parkinson was whispering and giggling behind them with her gang of Slytherin girls. Catching sight of Harry, Pansy called, "Potter, have you split up with your girlfriend? Why was she so upset at breakfast?"

It took all of my strength and willpower to ignore her; I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing how much trouble the Witch Weekly article had caused.

Hagrid, who had told us last lesson that we had finished with unicorns, was waiting for us outside his cabin with a fresh supply of open crates at his feet. My heart sank at the sight of the crates - surely not another skrewt hatching? - but when I got near enough to see inside, I found myself looking at a number of flurry black creatures with long snouts. Their front paws were curiously flat, like spades, and they were blinking up at the class, looking politely puzzled at all the attention.

"These're nifflers," said Hagrid, when the class had gathered around. "Yeh find 'em down mines mostly. They like sparkly stuff...There yeh go, look."

One of the nifflers had suddenly leapt up and attempted to bite Pansy Parkinson's watch off her wrist. She shrieked and jumped backward. I grinned with satisfaction, knowing Katrina would have appreciated the niffler's attempt considering everything Pansy had done to her over the years.

"Useful little treasure detectors," said Hagrid happily. "Thought we'd have some fun with 'em today. See over there?" He pointed at the large patch of freshly turned earth Kat and I had watched him digging from the Owlery window. "I've buried some gold coins. I've got a prize fer whoever picks the niffler that digs up most. Jus' take off all yer valuables, an' choose a niffler, an get ready ter set 'em loose."

I took off my watch, which I was only wearing out of habit, as it didn't work anymore, and stuffed it into my pocket. Then I picked up a niffler. It put its long snout in my ear and sniffed enthusiastically. It was really quite cuddly.

"Hang on," said Hagrid, looking down into the crate, "there's two spare nifflers here...who's missin? Where's Katrina? Hermione?"

"They had to go to the hospital wing," said Ron.  
"We'll explain later," I muttered; Pansy Parkinson was listening.

It was easily the most fun we had ever had in Care of Magical Creatures. The nifflers dived in and out of the patch of earth as though it were water, each scurrying back to the student who had released it and spitting gold into their hands. Ron's was particularly efficient; it had soon filled his lap with coins.

"Can you buy these as pets, Hagrid?" he asked excitedly as his niffler dived back into the soil, splattering his robes.

"Yer mum wouldn' be happy, Ron," said Hagrid, grinning. "They wreck houses, nifflers. I reckon they've nearly got the lot, now," he added, pacing around the patch of earth while the nifflers continued to dive. "I on'y buried a hundred coins. Oh there y'are, Katrina, Hermione!"

Katrina and Hermione were walking toward us across the lawn. Their hands were very heavily bandaged and they looked miserable. Pansy Parkinson was watching Katrina beadily.

"Well, let's check how yeh've done!" said Hagrid. "Count yer coins! An' there's no point tryin' ter steal any, Goyle," he added, his beetle-black eyes narrowed. "It's leprechaun gold. Vanishes after a few hours."

Goyle emptied his pockets, looking extremely sulky. It turned out that Ron's niffler had been most successful, so Hagrid gave him an enormous slab of Honeydukes chocolate for a prize. The bell rang across the grounds for lunch; the rest of the class set off back to the castle, but Ron, Hermione, Katrina, and I stayed behind to help Hagrid put the nifflers back in their boxes. I noticed Madame Maxime watching us out other carriage window.

"What yeh done ter your hands, Katrina, Hermione?" said Hagrid, looking concerned.

They told him about the hate mail they had received that morning, and the envelopes full of bubotuber pus and a stinging hex.

"Aaah, don worry," said Hagrid gently, looking down at them. "I got some o' those letters an all, after Rita Skeeter wrote abou me mum. 'Yeh're a monster an yeh should be put down.' 'Yer mother killed innocent people an if you had any decency you'd jump in a lake.'"

"No!" said Hermione and Katrina, looking shocked.

"Yeah," said Hagrid, heaving the niffler crates over by his cabin wall. "They're jus' nutters. Don' open 'em if yeh get any more. Chuck 'em straigh' in the fire." I grinned as I remembered Drake's actions this morning and whispered a suggestion to Katrina.

"You missed a really good lesson," I told the girls as we headed back toward the castle. "They're good, nifflers, aren't they, Ron?"

Ron, however, was frowning at the chocolate Hagrid had given him. He looked thoroughly put out about something.

"What's the matter?" I said. "Wrong flavor?"

"No," said Ron shortly. "Why didn't you tell me about the gold?" 

"What gold?" I said.

"The gold I gave you at the Quidditch World Cup," said Ron. "The leprechaun gold I gave you for my Omnioculars. In the Top Box. Why didn't you tell me it disappeared?"

I had to think for a moment before he realized what Ron was talking about.

"Oh..." I said, the memory coming back to me at last. "I dunno...I never noticed it had gone. I was more worried about my wand, wasn't I?"

We climbed the steps into the entrance hall and went into the Great Hall for lunch.

"Must be nice," Ron said abruptly, when we had sat down and started serving ourselves roast beef and Yorkshire puddings. "To have so much money you don't notice if a pocketful of Galleons goes missing."

"Listen, I had other stuff on my mind that night!" I said impatiently. "We all did, remember?" I couldn't help but remember Katrina's bloody pajamas and bashed in head as I said this.

"I didn't know leprechaun gold vanishes," Ron muttered. "I thought I was paying you back. You shouldn't've given me that Chudley Cannon hat for Christmas."

"Forget it, all right?" I said, trying to clear my head of the fear I had felt when Katrina had been discovered unconscious underneath the Dark Mark.

Ron speared a roast potato on the end of his fork, glaring at it. Then he said, "I hate being poor."

Katrina, Hermione, and I looked at each other.   
None of us really knew what to say.

"It's rubbish," said Ron, still glaring down at his potato. "I don't blame Fred and George for trying to make some extra money. Wish I could. Wish I had a niffler."

"Well, we know what to get you next Christmas," said Hermione brightly. Then, when Ron continued to look gloomy, she said, "Come on, Ron, it could be worse. At least your fingers aren't full of pus." Hermione was having a lot of difficulty managing her knife and fork, her fingers were so stiff and swollen. And Katrina was wincing every time she moved her hands. 

"I hate that Skeeter woman!" she burst out savagely. "I'll get her back for this if it's the last thing I do!"

I leaned over and did my best to help her with directly feeding her, since I knew from last year how much she hated that.

********************************************

Katrina's POV

Hate mail continued to arrive for Hermione and I over the following week, and although I followed Harry's advice and chucked them to Drake for target practice, several of our ill-wishers sent Howlers, which exploded at the Gryffindor table and shrieked insults at us for the whole Hall to hear. Even those people who didn't read Witch Weekly knew all about the supposed Harry-Krum-Hermione-Katrina triangle/square now. I was getting sick of telling people that neither Hermione or I were dating Harry, not that I didn't want to be, but it wasn't like we'd ever even been on a date yet!

"It'll die down, though," Hagrid told us, "if you just ignore it...People got bored with that stuff she wrote about me last time

"I want to know how she's listening into private conversations when she's supposed to be banned from the grounds!" said Hermione angrily. 

Hermione hung back in our next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson to ask Professor Moody something. I was anxious to fiscover Rita's secret as well but Professor Moody gave me a very creepy vibe and I didn't want to be left alone with him and only Hermione. The rest of the class was also very eager to leave; Moody had given us such a rigorous test of hex-deflection that many of them were nursing small injuries. Harry had such a bad case of Twitchy Ears, he had to hold his hands clamped over them as he walked away from the class. Which I will admit, I found quite amusing.

"Well, Rita's definitely not using an Invisibility Cloak!" Hermione panted five minutes later, catching up with Harry, Ron, and I in the entrance hall and pulling Harry's hand away from one of his wiggling ears so that he could hear her. "Moody says he didn't see her anywhere near the judges' table at the second task, or anywhere near the lake!"

"Hermione, is there any point in telling you to drop this?" said Ron.

"No!" said Hermione stubbornly. "I want to know how she heard me talking to Viktor! And how she found out about Hagrid's mum and Katrina's Scar!"

"Maybe she had you bugged," said Harry.

"Bugged?" said Ron blankly. "What...put fleas on her or something?"

Harry started explaining about hidden microphones and recording equipment. Ron  
was fascinated, but Hermione interrupted them.

"Aren't you two ever going to read Hogwarts, A History"

"What's the point?" said Ron. "You and Katrina know it by heart, we can just ask you."

"All those substitutes for magic Muggles use - electricity, computers, and radar, and all those things - they all go haywire around Hogwarts, there's too much magic in the air. No, Rita's using magic to eavesdrop, she must be...If I could just find out what it is...ooh, if it's illegal, I'll have her..."

"Haven't we got enough to worry about?" Ron asked her. "Do we have to start a vendetta against Rita Skeeter as well?"

"I'm not asking you to help!" Hermione snapped. "I'll do it on my own!" 

She marched back up the marble staircase without a backward glance. I was quite sure she was going to the library and I hung my head. I wanted to join her but the truth was I just didn't think I would have the time what with the next task coming up.

"What's the betting she comes back with a box of Hate Rita Skeeter badges?" said Ron.

********************************************

Hermione, however, did not ask Harry, Ron, or I to help her pursue vengeance against Rita Skeeter, for which we were all grateful, because our workload was mounting ever higher in the days before the Easter holidays. 

I was working flat-out just to get through all my homework and study for whatever the third task might hold (which Harry thought was a waste of time until we knew what it was but I didn't want to be behind like we had been for the last two). Harry and I made a point of sending regular food packages up to the cave in the mountain for Sirius; since we both knew what it felt like to be continually hungry. We enclosed notes to my father, telling him that nothing out of the ordinary had happened, and that we were still waiting for an answer from Percy.

Hedwig didn't return until the end of the Easter holidays. Percy's letter was enclosed in a package of Easter eggs that Mrs. Weasley had sent. Both Harrys and Ron's were the size of dragon eggs and full of homemade toffee.   
Mine and Hermione's, however, were smaller than chicken eggs. My face fell when I saw it.

"Your mum doesn't read Witch Weekly, by any chance, does she, Ron?" I asked quietly.

"Yeah," said Ron, whose mouth was full of toffee. "Gets it for the recipes." I looked sadly at my tiny egg. It wasn't so much that I cared about getting a smaller gift (I was happy to receive anything) but it did sadden me to think that Ron's mum might think horrible things about me after she had been nothing but sweet to Harry and myself since the day I had met her. She was the closest thing I had to a mother figure and I hated to think that she would ever think so lowly of me...

"Don't you want to see what Percy's written?" Harry asked me hastily in an attempt to raise my spirit. Percys letter was short and irritated.

As I am constantly telling the Daily Prophet, Mr. Crouch is taking a well-deserved break. 

He is sending in regular owls with instructions. No, I haven't actually seen him, but I think I can be trusted to know my own superior's handwriting. I have quite enough to do at the moment without trying to quash these ridiculous rumors. Please don't bother me again unless it's something important. 

Happy Easter.

********************************************

The start of the summer term would normally have meant that Harry and I were training hard for the last Quidditch match of the season. This year, however, it was the third and final task in the Triwizard Tournament for which we needed to prepare, but we still didn't know what we would have to do. Finally, in the last week of May, Professor McGonagall held us back in Transfiguration.

"You are to go down to the Quidditch field tonight at nine o'clock," she told us. "Mr. Bagman will be there to tell the champions about the third task." She looked at me with worry-filled eyes as she gave us the news.

So at half past eight that night. Harry and I left Ron and Hermione in Gryffindor Tower and went downstairs. As we crossed the entrance hall, Cedric came up from the Hufflepuff common room.

"What d'you reckon it's going to be?" he asked us as we went together down the stone steps, out into the cloudy night. "Fleur keeps going on about underground tunnels; she reckons we've got to find treasure."

"That wouldn't be too bad," I said, thinking that I would simply ask Hagrid for a niffler to do the job for me.

We walked down the dark lawn to the Quidditch stadium, turned through a gap in the stands, and walked out onto the field.

"What've they done to it?" Cedric said indignantly, stopping dead.

The Quidditch field was no longer smooth and flat. It looked as though somebody had been building long, low walls all over it that twisted and crisscrossed in every direction.

"They're hedges!" I said, bending to examine the nearest one.

"Hello there!" called a cheery voice.

Ludo Bagman was standing in the middle of the field with Krum and Fleur. Harry, Cedric, and I made our way toward them, climbing over the hedges. Fleur beamed at Harry and I as we came nearer. Her attitude toward us had changed completely since we had saved her sister from the lake.

"Well, what d'you think?" said Bagman happily as we climbed over the last hedge. "Growing nicely, aren't they? Give them a month and Hagrid'll have them twenty feet high. Don't worry," he added, grinning, spotting the less- than-happy expressions on our faces, "you'll have your Quidditch field back to normal once the task is over! Now, I imagine you can guess what we're making here?"

No one spoke for a moment. Then -

"Maze," grunted Krum.

"That's right!" said Bagman. "A maze. The third task's really very straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the center of the maze. The first champion to touch it will receive full marks."

"We seemply 'ave to get through the maze?" said Fleur.

"There will be obstacles," said Bagman happily, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Hagrid is providing a number of creatures...then there will be spells that must be broken...all that sort of thing, you know. Now, the champions who are leading on points will get a head start into the maze." Bagman grinned at Cedric and I. "Then Harry and Mr. Krum will enter...then Miss Delacour. But you'll all be in with a fighting chance, depending how well you get past the obstacles. Should be fun, eh?"

I, who knew only too well the kind of creatures that Hagrid was likely to provide for an event like this, thought it was unlikely to be any fun at all. However, I nodded politely like the other champions.

"Very well...if you haven't got any questions, we'll go back up to the castle, shall we, it's a bit chilly..."

Bagman hurried alongside Harry and I as we began to wind our way out of the growing maze. I had the feeling that Bagman was going to start offering to help us again, but just then, Krum tapped Harry and I on the shoulder.

"Could I haff a vord?"

"Yeah, all right," said Harry, slightly surprised.

"Vill you valk vith me?"

"Okay," said Harry and I curiously.

Bagman looked slightly perturbed.

"I'll wait for you two, shall I?"

"No, it's okay, Mr. Bagman," said Harry, suppressing a smile, "I think we can find the castle on our own, thanks."

Harry, Krum, and I left the stadium together, but Krum did not set a course for the Durmstrang ship. Instead, he walked toward the forest.

"What're we going this way for?" said Harry as we passed Hagrid's cabin and the illuminated Beauxbatons carriage.

"Don't vont to be overheard," said Krum shortly.

When at last we had reached a quiet stretch of ground a short way from the Beauxbatons horses' paddock, Krum stopped in the shade of the trees and turned to face Harry and I.

"I vant to know," he said, glowering, "vot there is between you and Hermy-own- ninny," he said, looking at Harry.

I, who from Krum's secretive manner had expected something much more serious than this, stared up at Krum in amazement.

"Nothing," Harry said. But Krum glowered at him, and Harry elaborated. "We're friends. She's not my girlfriend and she never has been. It's just that Skeeter woman making things up. I have someone else that...that I'm...interested in..." He looked at me and I blushed a brilliant shade of scarlet and looked down at the ground while I wrapped my hands in my robes. Harry grinned at my familiar habit.

"Hermy-own-ninny talks about you very often," said Krum, looking suspiciously at Harry.

"Yeah," said Harry, "because were friends."

"You haff never...you haff not..." 

"No," said Harry very firmly. I tugged on my hands to try and distract myself from the warm and fuzzy feeling that had rose when Harry had looked at me.

Krum looked slightly happier. He stared at Harry for a few seconds, then said, "You fly very veil. I vos votching at the first task."

"Thanks," said Harry, grinning broadly. "We saw you at the Quidditch World Cup. The Wronski Feint, you really -" Aww look at the two of them bonding, I thought to myself with a smile.

But something moved behind Krum in the trees, and Harry and I, who had some experience of the sort of thing that lurked in the forest, instinctively grabbed Krum's arm and pulled him around.

"Vot is it?"

I shook my head, staring at the place where I'd seen movement. I slipped my hand inside my robes, reaching for my wand. Then shrieked as a hand landed roughly on my shoulder. I spun around.

For a moment, I didn't recognize him...then I realized it was Mr. Crouch.

He looked as though he had been traveling for days. The knees of his robes were ripped and bloody, his face scratched; he was unshaven and gray with exhaustion. His neat hair and mustache were both in need of a wash and a trim. His strange appearance, however, was nothing to the way he was behaving. Muttering and gesticulating, Mr. Crouch appeared to be talking to someone that he alone could see.

"Vosn't he a judge?" said Krum, staring at Mr. Crouch. "Isn't he vith your Ministry?"

Harry and I nodded, hesitated for a moment, then walked slowly toward Mr. Crouch, who did not look at us, but continued to talk to a nearby tree.

"...and when you've done that, Weatherby, send an owl to Dumbledore confirming the number of Durmstrang students who will be attending the tournament, Karkaroff has just sent word there will be twelve..."

"Mr. Crouch?" said Harry cautiously.

"...and then send another owl to Madame Maxime, because she might want to up the number of students she's bringing, now Karkaroff's made it a round dozen...do that, Weatherby, will you? Will you? Will..."

Mr. Crouch's eyes were bulging. He stood staring at the tree, muttering soundlessly at it. Then he staggered sideways and fell to his knees.

"Mr. Crouch?" I said loudly. "Are you all right?"

Crouch's eyes were rolling in his head. I looked around at Krum, who had followed us into the trees, and was looking down at Crouch in alarm.

"Vot is wrong with him?"

"No idea," I muttered. "Listen, you'd better go and get someone -" I started to say to Harry.

"Dumbledore!" gasped Mr. Crouch. He reached out and seized a handful of my robes, dragging me closer, though his eyes were fogged over as he stared into my eyes; the same ones I shared with my grandfather. "I need...see... Dumbledore..."

"Okay," I said, "if you get up, Mr. Crouch, we can go up to the-"

"I've done...stupid...thing..." Mr. Crouch breathed. He looked utterly mad. His eyes were rolling and bulging, and a trickle of spittle was sliding down his chin. Every word he spoke seemed to cost him a terrible effort. "Must... tell...Dumbledore..."

"Get up, Mr. Crouch," I said loudly and clearly. "Get up, we'll take you to Dumbledore!"  
Mr, Crouch's eyes rolled forward onto me.

"Who...you?" he whispered.

"I'm a student at the school," I said, looking around at Krum for some help, but Krum was hanging back, looking extremely nervous and Harry was just looking at me bewilderedly. 

"You're not... his?" whispered Crouch, his mouth sagging.

"No," I said, without the faintest idea what Crouch was talking about.

"Dumbledore's?"

"That's right," I said, still not sure what the bloody hell was going on.

Crouch was pulling me closer; I tried to loosen Crouch's grip on my robes, but it was too powerful.

"Warn...Dumbledore..."

"I'll get Dumbledore if you let go of me," I said. "Just let go, Mr. Crouch, and we can get him..."

"Thank you, Weatherby, and when you have done that, I would like a cup of tea. My wife and son will be arriving shortly, we are attending a concert tonight with Mr. and Mrs. Fudge."

Crouch was now talking fluently to a tree again, and seemed completely unaware that I was there, which surprised me so much I didn't notice that Crouch had released me.

"Yes, my son has recently gained twelve O.W.L.S, most satisfactory, yes, thank you, yes, very proud indeed. Now, if you could bring me that memo from the Andorran Minister of Magic, I think I will have time to draft a response..."

"You stay here with him!" Harry said to Krum and me. "I'll get Dumbledore,"

"He is mad," said Krum doubtfully, staring down at Crouch, who was still gabbling to the tree, apparently convinced it was Percy.

"Just stay with him," said Harry, starting to get up, but his movement seemed to trigger another abrupt change in Mr. Crouch, who seized Harry hard around the knees and pulled Harry back to the ground.

"Don't...leave...me!" he whispered, his eyes bulging again. "I...escaped...must warn...must tell...see Dumbledore...my fault...all my fault... Bertha...dead...all my fault...my son...my fault...tell Dumbledore...Harry Potter...the Dark Lord...the girl...stronger...the girl...Harry Potter..."

"I'll get Dumbledore if you let me go, Mr. Crouch!" said Harry. He looked around at Krum. "Help me, will you?"

Looking extremely apprehensive, Krum moved forward and squatted down next to Mr. Crouch.

"Just keep him here," said Harry, pulling himself free of Mr. Crouch. "I'll be back with Dumbledore."

"Hurry, von't you?" Krum called after him as Harry sprinted away from the forest and up through the dark grounds with one last look at me.

Mr. Crouch kept mumbling about some girl, Harry, the Dark Lord, and Dumbledore. Several minutes later as I was looking around to see if Harry was coming back, a startled gasp and a loud bang filled the silence and I looked over to see that Krum was on the floor unconscious. There was another bang from behind me and the next thing I knew, I was flying through the air. I landed with a thud as my head slammed back into a tree trunk and the world went black.

********************************************

Harry's POV

The halls were deserted; Bagman, Cedric, and Fleur had disappeared. I tore up the stone steps, through the oak front doors, and off up the marble staircase, toward the second floor.

Five minutes later I was hurtling toward a stone gargoyle standing halfway along an empty corridor.

"Sher - sherbet lemon!" I panted at it.

This was the password to the hidden staircase to Dumbledore's office - or at least, it had been two years ago. The password had evidently changed, however, for the stone gargoyle did not spring to life and jump aside, but stood frozen, glaring at me malevolently.

"Move!" I shouted at it. "C'mon!"

But nothing at Hogwarts had ever moved just because I shouted at it; I knew it was no good. I looked up and down the dark corridor. Perhaps Dumbledore was in the staffroom? I started running as fast as I could toward the staircase -

"POTTER!"

I skidded to a halt and looked around. Snape had just emerged from the hidden staircase behind the stone gargoyle. The wall was sliding shut behind him even as he beckoned me back toward him.

"What are you doing here, Potter?"

"I need to see Professor Dumbledore!" I said, running back up the corridor and skidding to a standstill in front of Snape instead. "It's Mr. Crouch...he's just turned up...he's in the forest...he's asking -"

"What is this rubbish?" said Snape, his black eyes glittering. "What are you talking about?"

"Mr. Crouch!" I shouted. "From the Ministry! He's ill or something - he's in the forest, he wants to see Dumbledore! Just give me the password up to -"

"The headmaster is busy. Potter," said Snape, his thin mouth curling into an unpleasant smile.

"I've got to tell Dumbledore!" I yelled. 

"Didn't you hear me. Potter?"

I could tell Snape was thoroughly enjoying himself, denying me the thing I wanted when I was so panicky.

"Look," I said angrily, "Crouch isn't right - he's - he's out of his mind - he says he wants to warn -"

The stone wall behind Snape slid open.   
Dumbledore was standing there, wearing long green robes and a mildly curious expression.   
"Is there a problem?" he said, looking between Snape and I.

"Professor!" I said, sidestepping Snape before Snape could speak, "Mr. Crouch is here - he's down in the forest, he wants to speak to you!"

I expected Dumbledore to ask questions, but to my relief, Dumbledore did nothing of the sort. 

"Lead the way," Dumbledore said promptly, and he swept off along the corridor behind me, leaving Snape standing next to the gargoyle and looking twice as ugly.

"What did Mr. Crouch say. Harry?" said Dumbledore as we walked swiftly down the marble staircase.

"Said he wants to warn you...said he's done something terrible...he mentioned his son...and Bertha Jorkins...and - and Voldemort...  
something about Voldemort getting stronger..."

"Indeed," said Dumbledore, and he quickened his pace as we hurried out into the pitch-darkness.

"He's not acting normally," I said, hurrying along beside Dumbledore. "He doesn't seem to know where he is. He keeps talking like he thinks Percy Weasley's there, and then he changes, and says he needs to see you...I left him with Viktor Krum and Katrina."

"You did?" said Dumbledore sharply at the mention of his granddaughter, and he began to take longer strides still, so that I was running to keep up. "Do you know if anybody else saw Mr. Crouch?"

"No," said Harry. "Krum, Katrina, and I were talking, Mr. Bagman had just finished telling us about the third task, we stayed behind, and then we saw Mr. Crouch coming out of the forest -"

"Where are they?" said Dumbledore as the Beauxbatons carriage emerged from the darkness.

"Over here," I said, moving in front of Dumbledore, leading the way through the trees. I couldn't hear Crouch's voice anymore, but I knew where I was going; it hadn't been much past the Beauxbatons carriage... somewhere around here....

"Viktor?" I shouted. No one answered. "Katrina!" more silence...

"They were here," I said to Dumbledore. "They were definitely somewhere around here..."

"Lumos," Dumbledore said, lighting his wand and holding it up.

Its narrow beam traveled from black trunk to black trunk, illuminating the ground. And then it fell upon a pair of feet.

Dumbledore and I hurried forward. Krum was sprawled on the forest floor. He seemed to be unconscious. There was no sign at all of Mr. Crouch or Katrina. Dumbledore bent over Krum and gently lifted one of his eyelids.

"Stunned," he said softly. His half-moon glasses glittered in the wandlight as he peered around at the surrounding trees, desperately looking everywhere for his granddaughter. 

"Should I go and get someone?" I said.   
"Madam Pomfrey?" 

"No," said Dumbledore swiftly. "Stay here and help me look for Katrina!"

He raised his wand into the air and pointed it in the direction of Hagrid's cabin. Harry saw something silvery dart out of it and streak away through the trees like a ghostly bird. Then Dumbledore bent over Krum again, pointed his wand at him, and muttered, "Ennervate."

Krum opened his eyes. He looked dazed. When he saw Dumbledore, he tried to sit up, but Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder and made him lie still.

"He attacked me!" Krum muttered, putting a hand up to his head. "The old madman attacked me! I vos looking around to see vare Potter had gone and he attacked from behind!"

"Lie still for a moment," Dumbledore said, still glancing around for Katrina.

The sound of thunderous footfalls reached us, and Hagrid came panting into sight with Fang at his heels. He was carrying his crossbow.

"Professor Dumbledore!" he said, his eyes widening. "Harry - what the - ?"

"Hagrid, I need you to fetch Professor Karkaroff," said Dumbledore. "His student has been attacked. When you've done that, kindly alert Professor Moody -"

"No need, Dumbledore," said a wheezy growl.   
"I'm here."

Moody was limping toward us, leaning on his staff, his wand lit.

"Damn leg," he said furiously. "Would've been here quicker...what's happened? Snape said something about Crouch -"

"Crouch?" said Hagrid blankly.

"Karkaroff, please, Hagrid!" said Dumbledore sharply.

"Oh yeah . .'. right y'are, Professor..." said Hagrid, and he turned and disappeared into the dark trees, Fang trotting after him.

"I don't know where Barty Crouch is," Dumbledore told Moody, "but it is essential that we find him."

"I'm onto it," growled Moody, and he pulled out his wand and limped off into the forest.

Neither Dumbledore nor I spoke again while we searched the area for Katrina. 

"Over here, Professor!" I shouted, as I finally spotted her. 

Dumbledore raced over to me, his wand's light illuminating Katrina's bloody and unconscious form. Dumbledore bent down and carefully picked up his grandaughter and we walked back over to where Krum was.

We heard the unmistakable sounds of Hagrid and Fang returning. Karkaroff was hurrying along behind them. He was wearing his sleek silver furs, and he looked pale and agitated.

"What is this?" he cried when he saw Krum on the ground and Dumbledore (with Katrina in his arms) and I beside him. "What's going on?"

"I vos attacked!" said Krum, sitting up now and rubbing his head. "Mr. Crouch or votever his name -"

"Crouch attacked you? Crouch attacked you? The Triwizard judge?"

"Igor," Dumbledore began, but Karkaroff had drawn himself up, clutching his furs around him, looking livid.

"Treachery!" he bellowed, pointing at Dumbledore. "It is a plot! You and your Ministry of Magic have lured me here under false pretenses, Dumbledore! This is not an equal competition! First you sneak Potter and the Katrina girl into the tournament, though they are underage! Now one of your Ministry friends attempts to put my champion out of action! I smell double-dealing and corruption in this whole affair, and you, Dumbledore, you, with your talk of closer international wizarding links, of rebuilding old ties, of forgetting old differences - here's what I think of you!"

Karkaroff spat onto the ground at Dumbledore's feet. In one swift movement, Hagrid seized the front of Karkaroff's furs, lifted him into the air, and slammed him against a nearby tree.

"Apologize!" Hagrid snarled as Karkaroff gasped for breath, Hagrid's massive fist at his throat, his feet dangling in midair.

"Hagrid, no!" Dumbledore shouted, his eyes flashing.

Hagrid removed the hand pinning Karkaroff to the tree, and Karkaroff slid all the way down the trunk and slumped in a huddle at its roots; a few twigs and leaves showered down upon his head.

"Kindly take Katrina to the Madam Pomfrey and escort Harry back up to the castle, Hagrid," said Dumbledore sharply, gingerly handing Katrina over to Hagrid. Breathing heavily, Hagrid gave Karkaroff a glowering look as he gathered into his large arms.

"Maybe I'd better stay here. Headmaster..."

"You will take Katrina and Harry back to school, Hagrid," Dumbledore repeated firmly. "Take her to the hospital wing and then take Harry right up to Gryffindor Tower. And Harry - I want you to stay there. Anything you might want to do - any owls you might want to send - they can wait until morning, do you understand me?"

"Er - yes," I said, staring at him. How had Dumbledore known that, at that very moment, I had been thinking about sending Pigwidgeon straight to Sirius, to tell him what had happened?

"I'll leave Fang with yeh. Headmaster," Hagrid said, staring menacingly at Karkaroff, who was still sprawled at the foot of the tree, tangled in furs and tree roots. "Stay, Fang. C'mon, Harry."  
We marched in silence past the Beauxbatons carriage and up toward the castle.

"How dare he," Hagrid growled as they strode past the lake. "How dare he accuse Dumbledore. Like Dumbledore'd do anythin' like that. Like Dumbledore wanted you two in the tournament in the firs' place. Worried! I dunno when I seen Dumbledore more worried than he's bin lately. An' you!" Hagrid suddenly said angrily to me. "What were yeh doin', wanderin' off with ruddy Krum? He's from Durmstrang, Harry! Coulda jinxed yeh right there, couldn he? Hasn' Moody taught yeh nothin'? 'Magine lettin him lure yeh off on yer own -"

"Krum's all right!" I said as we climbed the steps into the entrance hall. "He wasn't trying to jinx me, he just wanted to talk about Hermione -"

"I'll be havin' a few words with her, an' all," said Hagrid grimly, stomping up the stairs. "The less you lot 'ave ter do with these foreigners, the happier yeh'll be. Yeh can trust any of 'em."

"You were getting on all right with Madame Maxime," I said, annoyed.

"Don' you talk ter me abou' her!" said Hagrid, and he looked quite frightening for a moment. "I've got her number now! Tryin' ter get back in me good books, tryin' ter get me ter tell her what's comin in the third task. Ha! You can' trust any of'em!"

Hagrid was in such a bad mood, I was quite glad when we dropped Katrina with Madam Pomfrey; who clucked over her as she set her up in one of the cots and I could say good-bye to him in front of the Fat Lady. I clambered through the portrait hole into the common room and hurried straight for the corner where Ron and Hermione were sitting, to tell them what had happened.

********************************************

AN - Hope you liked this latest chapter! If anyone has any feedback on how I should write the third task I'll definitely love to hear it! Not sure if Harry and Katrina should find each other right away or only at the very end and if so what creatures/obsticals Katrina should face. As always, that chapter will be dedicated to anyone who's ideas I end up using if any! <3


	87. The Dream

Katrina's POV

It comes down to this," said Hermione, rubbing her forehead. She, Harry, and Ron were keeping me company in the hospital wing until Madam Pomfrey released me. "Either Mr. Crouch attacked Viktor and Katrina, or somebody else attacked both of them when they weren't looking."

"It must've been Crouch," said Ron at once. "That's why he was gone when Harry and Dumbledore got there. He'd done a runner."

"I don't think so," said Harry, shaking his head. "He seemed really weak - I don't reckon he was up to Disapparating or anything."

"You cant Disapparate on the Hogwarts grounds, haven't we told you enough times?" said Hermione and I together.

"Okay...hows this for a theory," said Ron excitedly. "Krum attacked Crouch - no, wait for it - and then Stunned himself!"

"And Mr. Crouch evaporated, did he, and Katrina walked into a tree?" said Hermione coldly. "Oh yeah..."

After Madam Pomfrey had released me from the hospital wing, the four of us went up to the Owlery to send a note to Sirius. I made Harry leave out the bit about me getting attacked along with Krum since I didn't want my father to try breaking into the castle again like he had last year.

"Just go through it again," said Hermione. "What did Mr. Crouch actually say?"

"We've told you, he wasn't making much sense," said Harry and I. "He said he wanted to warn Dumbledore about something. He definitely mentioned Bertha Jorkins, and he seemed to think she was dead. He kept saying stuff was his fault...He mentioned his son."

"Well, that was his fault," said Hermione testily.

"He was out of his mind," I said. "Half the time he seemed to think his wife and son were still alive, and he kept talking to Percy about work and giving him instructions."

"And...remind me what he said about You-Know-Who?" said Ron tentatively. "I've told you," Harry repeated dully. "He said he's getting stronger."

There was a pause. Then Ron said in a falsely confident voice, "But he was out of his mind, like you said, so half of it was probably just raving..."

"He was sanest when he was trying to talk about Voldemort," I said, and Ron winced at the sound of the name. "He was having real trouble stringing two words together, but that was when he seemed to know where he was, and know what he wanted to do. He just kept saying he had to see Dumbledore."

I turned away from the window and stared up into the rafters. The many perches were half-empty; every now and then, another owl would swoop in through one of the windows, returning from its night's hunting with a mouse in its beak.

"If Snape hadn't held me up," Harry said bitterly, "we might've got there in time. 'The headmaster is busy. Potter...what's this rubbish, Potter?' Why couldn't he have just got out of the way?"

"Maybe he didn't want you to get there!" said Ron quickly. "Maybe - hang on - how fast d'you reckon he could've gotten down to the forest? D'you reckon he could've beaten you and Dumbledore there?" I glared at Ron, understanding the implication he was making.

"Not unless he can turn himself into a bat or something," said Harry. "Wouldn't put it past him," Ron muttered.

"My godfather had nothing to do with this! You may not like him but you can't deny that he would never hurt me!" I stated angrily.

"We need to see Professor Moody," said Hermione. "We need to find out whether he found Mr. Crouch,"

"If he had the Marauder's Map on him, it would've been easy," said Harry.

"Unless Crouch was already outside the grounds," said Ron, "because it only shows up to the boundaries, doesn't -"

"Shh!" said Hermione suddenly.

Somebody was climbing the steps up to the Owlery. I could hear two voices arguing, coming closer and closer.

"- that's blackmail, that is, we could get into a lot of trouble for that-"

"- we've tried being polite; it's time to play dirty, like him. He wouldn't like the Ministry of Magic knowing what he did -"

"I'm telling you, if you put that in writing, it's blackmail!"

"Yeah, and you won't be complaining if we get a nice fat payoff, will you?"

The Owlery door banged open. Fred and George came over the threshold, then froze at the sight of Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"What're you doing here?" Ron and Fred said at the same time. 

"Sending a letter," said Harry and George in unison.

"What, at this time?" said Hermione and Fred.

Fred grinned. I burst out laughing.

"Fine - we won't ask you what you're doing, if you don't ask us," he said.

He was holding a sealed envelope in his hands. 

I glanced at it, but Fred, whether accidentally or on purpose, shifted his hand so that the name on it was covered.

"Well, don't let us hold you up," Fred said, making a mock bow and pointing at the door.

Ron didn't move. "Who're you blackmailing?" he said.

The grin vanished from Fred's face. I saw George half glance at Fred, before smiling at Ron.

"Don't be stupid, I was only joking," he said easily. 

"Didn't sound like that," said Ron.

Fred and George looked at each other. Then Fred said abruptly, "I've told you before, Ron, keep your nose out if you like it the shape it is. Can't see why you would, but -"

"It's my business if you're blackmailing someone," said Ron. "George's right, you could end up in serious trouble for that."

"Told you, I was joking," said George. He walked over to Fred, pulled the letter out of his hands, and began attaching it to the leg of the nearest barn owl. "You're starting to sound a bit like our dear older brother, you are, Ron. Carry on like this and you'll be made a prefect."

"No, I won't!" said Ron hotly.

George carried the barn owl over to the window and it took off. George turned around and grinned at Ron.

"Well, stop telling people what to do then. See you later."

He and Fred left the Owlery. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I stared at one another.

"You don't think they know something about all this, do you?" Hermione whispered. "About Crouch and everything?"

"No," said Harry. "If it was something that serious, they'd tell someone. They'd tell Dumbledore."

Ron, however, was looking uncomfortable.

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked him.

"Well. . ." said Ron slowly, "I dunno if they would. They're...they're obsessed with making money lately, I noticed it when I was hanging around with them - when - you know -"

"We weren't talking." Harry finished the sentence for him. "Yeah, but blackmail..."

"It's this joke shop idea they've got," said Ron. "I thought they were only saying it to annoy Mum, but they really mean it, they want to start one. They've only got a year left at Hogwarts, they keep going on about how it's time to think about their future, and Dad can't help them, and they need gold to get started."

Hermione was looking uncomfortable now.  
"Yes, but...they wouldn't do anything against the law to get gold."

"Wouldn't they?" said Ron, looking skeptical. "I dunno...they don't exactly mind breaking rules, do they?"

"Yes, but this is the law" said Hermione, looking scared. "This isn't some silly school rule...They'll get a lot more than detention for blackmail! Ron...maybe you'd better tell Percy..."

"Are you mad?" said Ron. "Tell Percy? He'd probably do a Crouch and turn them in." He stared at the window through which Fred and George's owl had departed, then said, "Come on, let's get some breakfast."

"D'you think it's too early to go and see Professor Moody?" Hermione said as we went down the spiral staircase.

"Yes," said Harry. "He'd probably blast us through the door if we wake him at the crack of dawn; he'll think we're trying to attack him while he's asleep. Let's give it till break."

********************************************

History of Magic had rarely gone so slowly. 

Harry kept checking Ron's watch, we had finally discarded our own, but Ron's was moving so slowly I could have sworn it had stopped working too. All four of us were so tired we could happily have put our heads down on the desks and slept; even Hermione wasn't taking her usual notes, but was sitting with her head on her hand, gazing at Professor Binns with her eyes out of focus.

When the bell finally rang, we hurried out into the corridors toward the Dark Arts classroom and found Professor Moody leaving it. He looked as tired as we felt. The eyelid of his normal eye was drooping, giving his face an even more lopsided appearance than usual.

"Professor Moody?" I called as we made our way toward him through the crowd.

"Hello, Katrina, Potter," growled Moody. His magical eye followed a couple of passing first years, who sped up, looking nervous; it rolled into the back of Moody's head and watched them around the corner before he spoke again.

"Come in here."

He stood back to let us into his empty classroom, limped in after us, and closed the door.

"Did you find him?" Harry asked without preamble. "Mr. Crouch?"

"No," said Moody. He moved over to his desk, sat down, stretched out his wooden leg with a slight groan, and pulled out his hip flask.

"Did you use the map?" Harry said.

"Of course," said Moody, taking a swig from his flask. "Took a leaf out of your book, Potter. Summoned it from my office into the forest. He wasn't anywhere on there."

"So he did Disapparate?" said Ron.

"You can't Disapparate on the grounds, Ron!" I said. "There are other ways he could have disappeared, aren't there, Professor?"

Moody's magical eye quivered as it rested on me. "You're another one who might think about a career as an Auror," he told me. "Mind works the right way."

I flushed pink with pleasure.

"Well, he wasn't invisible," said Harry. "The map shows invisible people. He must've left the grounds, then."

"But under his own steam?" said Hermione eagerly, "or because someone made him?"

"Yeah, someone could've - could've pulled him onto a broom and flown off with him, couldn't they?" said Ron quickly, looking hopefully at Moody as if he too wanted to be told he had the makings of an Auror.

"We can't rule out kidnap," growled Moody.

"So," said Ron, "d'you reckon he's somewhere in Hogsmeade?"

"Could be anywhere," said Moody, shaking his head. "Only thing we know for sure is that he's not here."

He yawned widely, so that his scars stretched, and his lopsided mouth revealed a number of missing teeth. Then he said, "Now, Dumbledore's told me you four fancy yourselves as investigators, but there's nothing you can do for Crouch. The Ministry'll be looking for him now, Dumbledore's notified them. Potter, Katrina, you just keep your mind on the third task."

"What?" Harry and I said. "Oh yeah..."

I hadn't given the maze a single thought since I'd left it with Krum the previous night, on account of my getting my head bashed in for the second time this year. If I wasn't careful I was definitely going to break some sort of record!

"Should be right up your street, this one," said Moody, looking up at Harry and I and scratching his scarred and stubbly chin. "From what Dumbledore's said, you two have managed to get through stuff like this plenty of times. Broke your way through a series of obstacles guarding the Sorcerers Stone in your first year, didn't you?"

"We helped," Ron said quickly. "Me and Hermione helped."

Moody grinned.

"Well, help them practice for this one, and I'll be very surprised if both of them don't win," said Moody. "In the meantime...constant vigilance. Constant vigilance." He took another long draw from his hip flask, and his magical eye swiveled onto the window. The topmost sail of the Durmstrang ship was visible through it.

"You two," counseled Moody, his normal eye on Ron and Hermione, "you stick close to Potter and Katrina, all right? I'm keeping an eye on things, but all the same...you can never have too many eyes out."

Crouch Jr's POV

I thought hard that night, as I washed the dirt off of my hands. I may have completed my master's latest request, but if I didn't make sure the third task went according to plan, then I may just find myself transfigured into a bone and buried myself...

But how to get at the girl. She was strong, stronger than predicted, and protected by a dragon of all creatures, though a tiny one, he was still a formidable threat...my original plan had been to use Imperio but considering how well she did in class, I was starting to doubt whether it would work, though it was a lot harder to fight off when the witch or wizard was caught unawares, so it might still work, but I was starting to think I might need a backup plan to make sure both Potter and the girl were delivered as my Master demanded.

********************************************

Sirius sent our owl back the very next morning. 

It fluttered down beside Harry at the same moment that two tawny owls landed in front of Hermione and I clutching copies of the Daily Prophet in its beak. I let Hermione do the honors. She took the newspaper, scanned the first few pages, said, "Ha! She hasn't got wind of Crouch!" then joined Ron, Harry, and I in reading what Sirius had to say on the mysterious events of the night before last.

Katrina, Harry - 

what do you think you are playing at, walking off into the forest with Viktor Krum? I want you to swear, by return owl, that you two are not going to go walking with anyone else at night. There is somebody highly dangerous at Hogwarts. It is clear to me that they wanted to stop Crouch from seeing Dumbledore and you were probably feet away from them in the dark. You could have been killed.

Your names didn't get into the Goblet of Fire by accident. If someone's trying to attack you, they're on their last chance. Stay close to Ron and Hermione, do not leave Gryffindor Tower after hours, and arm yourself for the third task. Practice Stunning and Disarming. A few hexes wouldn't go amiss either. There's nothing you can do about Crouch. Keep your head down and look after yourself. I'm waiting for your letter giving me your word you won't stray out-of-bounds again.

Sirius

"Who's he, to lecture us about being out-of-bounds?" said Harry and I in mild indignation as Harry folded up Sirius's letter and put it inside his robes. "After all the stuff he did at school!"

"He's worried about you!" said Hermione sharply. "Just like Moody and Hagrid! So listen to them!"

"No one's tried to attack us all year," said Harry. "No one's done anything to me at  
all-"

"Except put your names in the Goblet of Fire," said Hermione. "And they must've done that for a reason. Harry. Snuffles is right. Maybe they've been biding their time. Maybe this is the task they're going to get you."

"Look," said Harry impatiently, "let's say Sirius is right, and someone Stunned Kat and Krum to kidnap Crouch. Well, they would've been in the trees near us, wouldn't they? But they waited till I was out of the way until they acted, didn't they? So it doesn't look like I'm their target, does it? Katrina was probably just an innocent victim like Krum."

"They couldn't have made it look like an accident if they'd murdered you in the forest!" said Hermione. "But if you die during a task-"

"They didn't care about attacking Krum, did they?" said Harry. "Why didn't they just polish me off at the same time? They could've made it look like the three of us had a duel or something."

"Harry, I don't understand it either," said Hermione desperately. "I just know there are a lot of odd things going on, and I don't like it... Moody's right - Sirius is right - you've got to get in training for the third task, straight away. And you make sure you write back to Sirius and promise him you're not going to go sneaking off alone again."

********************************************

The Hogwarts grounds never looked more inviting than when Harry and I had to stay indoors. For the next few days we spent all of our free time either in the library with Hermione and Ron, looking up hexes, or else in empty classrooms, which we sneaked into to practice. Harry was concentrating on the Stunning Spell, which he had never used before. and I was working on controlling my elements, which I was quick to discover, now included earth. The trouble was that practicing it involved certain sacrifices on Ron's and Hermione's part.

"Can't we kidnap Mrs. Norris?" Ron suggested on Monday lunchtime as he lay flat on his back in the middle of the Charms classroom, having just been Stunned and reawoken by Harry for the fifth time in a row. "Let's Stun her for a bit. Or you could use Dobby, I bet he'd do anything to help you. I'm not complaining or anything" - he got gingerly to his feet, rubbing his backside - "but I'm aching all over..."

"Well, you keep missing the cushions, don't you!" said Hermione impatiently, rearranging the pile of cushions they had used for the Banishing Spell, which Flitwick had left in a cabinet. "Just try and fall backward!"

"Once you're Stunned, you can't aim too well, Hermione! "said Ron angrily. "Why don't you take a turn?"

"Well, I think they've got it now, anyway," said Hermione hastily. "And we don't have to worry about Disarming, because they've been able to do that for ages...I think we ought to start on some of these hexes this evening."

She looked down the list we had made in the library.

"I like the look of this one," she said, "this Impediment Curse. Should slow down anything that's trying to attack you. We'll start with that one."

The bell rang. We hastily shoved the cushions back into Flitwicks cupboard and slipped out of the classroom.

"See you at dinner!" said Hermione and I as we set off for Arithmancy, while Harry and Ron headed toward North Tower, and Divination. 

Broad strips of dazzling gold sunlight tell across the corridor from the high windows. The sky outside was so brightly blue it looked as though it had been enameled. I couldn't help but gaze out the window and get distracted by day dreams as I stared sleepily out of the window as the breeze from the window danced across my face. 

I could hear an insect humming gently somewhere on the window ledge. My eyelids began to droop...

I was riding on the back of Buckbeak, soaring through the clear blue sky toward an old, ivy-covered house set high on a hillside. Lower and lower we flew, the wind blowing pleasantly in my face, until we reached a dark and broken window in the upper story of the house and entered. Now we were flying along a gloomy passageway, to a room at the very end...through the door we went, into a dark room whose windows were boarded up...

I had left Buckbeak's back...There were two dark shapes on the floor beside the chair...both of them were stirring...

One was a huge snake...the other was a man...a short, balding man, a man with watery eyes and a pointed nose...he was wheezing and sobbing on the hearth rug...

"You are in luck, Wormtail," said a cold, high-pitched voice from the depths of one of the chairs in the room. "You are very fortunate indeed. Your blunder has not ruined everything. He is dead."

"My Lord!" gasped the man on the floor. "My Lord, I am...I am so pleased...and so sorry..."

"Nagini," said the cold voice, "you are out of luck. I will not be feeding Wormtail to you, after all...but never mind, never mind...there is still Harry Potter..."

The snake hissed. I could see its tongue fluttering.

"Now, Wormtail," said the cold voice, "perhaps one more little reminder why I will not tolerate another blunder from you..."

"My Lord...no...I beg you..."

The tip of a wand emerged from around the back of the chair. It was pointing at Wormtail.

"Crucio!" said the cold voice.

Wormtail screamed, screamed as though every nerve in his body were on fire, the screaming filled my ears as the scar on my collarbone seared with pain; I was yelling too...Voldemort would hear me, would know I was there...

"Katrina! Katrina!"

I opened my eyes. I was lying on the floor of Professor Vector's room with my hands over my chest. My scar was still burning so badly that my eyes were watering. The pain had been real. The whole class was standing around me, and Hermione was kneeling next to me, looking terrified.

"You all right?" she said.

"Of course she isn't!" said Professor Vector. Looking at me with worry in her eyes. 

I sat up. I could feel myself shaking. I couldn't stop myself from looking around, into the shadows behind me; Voldemort's voice had sounded so close...

"I need to go to the hospital wing, I think," I said. "Bad headache."

"Of course, dear, of course!" 

I stood up. The class backed away. They all looked unnerved.

"See you later," I muttered to Hermione, and I picked up my bag and headed for the door, doing my best to ignore all the looks I was getting.

When I got into the hallway, however, I did not set off for the hospital wing. I had no intention whatsoever of going there. My father had told me what to do if my scar hurt me again, and I was going to follow his advice: I was going straight to Grandfather's office. I marched down the corridors, thinking about what I had seen in the dream...it had been as vivid as the one that had awoken him at Hermione's house over the summer...

I ran over the details in my mind, trying to make sure I could remember them...I had heard Voldemort accusing Wormtail of making a blunder...but an owl had brought good news, the blunder had been repaired, somebody was dead...so Wormtail was not going to be fed to the snake...my best friend, Harry, was going to be fed to it instead...

I had walked right past the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office without noticing. I blinked, looked around, realized what I had done, and retraced my steps, stopping in front of it. Then I remembered that I didn't know the password.

"Sherbet lemon?" I tried tentatively. The gargoyle did not move.

"Okay," I said, staring at it, "Pear Drop. Er - Licorice Wand. Fizzing Whizbee. Drooble's Best Blowing Gum. Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans...oh no, he doesn't like them, does he?... oh just open, can't you?" I said angrily. "I really need to see him, its urgent! He's my grandfather for bloody sake!"

The gargoyle remained immovable.I kicked it, achieving nothing but an excruciating pain in my big toe. "Chocolate Frog!" I yelled angrily, standing on one leg. "Sugar Quill! Cockroach  
Cluster!"

The gargoyle sprang to life and jumped aside. I blinked. "Cockroach Cluster?" I said, amazed. "I was only joking..."

I hurried through the gap in the walls and stepped onto the foot of a spiral stone staircase, which moved slowly upward as the doors closed behind me, taking me up to a polished oak door with a brass door knocker. To my surprise, Harry was standing on the landing...we looked at each other and realized we must have both had the same dream again...just like over the summer. My stomach rolled as I thought of what this could mean.

I could hear voices from inside the office. I stepped off the moving staircase, and joined Harry, listening.

"Dumbledore, I'm afraid I don't see the connection, don't see it at all!" It was the voice of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. "Ludo says Berthas perfectly capable of getting herself lost. I agree we would have expected to have found her by now, but all the same, we've no evidence of foul play, Dumbledore, none at all. As for her disappearance being linked with Barty Crouch's!"

"And what do you thinks happened to Barty Crouch, Minister?" said Moody's growling voice.

"I see two possibilities, Alastor," said Fudge. "Either Crouch has finally cracked - more than likely, I'm sure you'll agree, given his personal history - lost his mind, and gone wandering off somewhere -"

"He wandered extremely quickly, if that is the case, Cornelius," said Dumbledore calmly.

"Or else - well..." Fudge sounded embarrassed. "Well, I'll reserve judgment until after I've seen the place where he was found, but you say it was just past the Beauxbatons carriage? Dumbledore, you know what that woman is?"

"I consider her to be a very able headmistress - and an excellent dancer," said my grandfather quietly.

"Dumbledore, come!" said Fudge angrily. "Don't you think you might be prejudiced in her favor because of Hagrid? They don't all turn out harmless - if, indeed, you can call Hagrid harmless, with that monster fixation he's got -"

"I no more suspect Madame Maxime than Hagrid," said Dumbledore, just as calmly. "I think it possible that it is you who are prejudiced, Cornelius."

"Can we wrap up this discussion?" growled Moody.

"Yes, yes, let's go down to the grounds, then," said Fudge impatiently.

"No, it's not that," said Moody, "it's just that Potter and Katrina want a word with you, Dumbledore. They're just outside the door."

********************************************

AN - Thoughts on the latest Crouch POV? Also I'm thinking maybe he imperios Kat during the maze and she attacks Harry or something or does it seem far fetched considering he's been teaching them how to fight it? Then again element of surprise? Or should I just make her have to deal with monsters etc? What do you guys think? Let me know! The sooner I figure out the maze scene the sooner I can wrap up this fourth book for y'all :)


	88. The Pensieve

Katrina's POV

The door of the office opened.

"Hello, Potter, Katrina," said Moody. "Come in, then."

Harry and I walked inside. We had been inside Dumbledore's office once before; it was a very beautiful, circular room, lined with pictures of previous headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts, all of whom were fast asleep, their chests rising and falling gently.

Cornelius Fudge was standing beside Dumbledore's desk, wearing his usual pinstriped cloak and holding his lime-green bowler hat.

"Harry!" said Fudge jovially, moving forward. "How are you?" 

"Fine," Harry said, though I could tell that he was lying.

"We were just talking about the night when Mr. Crouch turned up on the grounds," said Fudge. "It was you two who found him, was it not?"

"Yes," said Harry and I. Then, feeling it was pointless to pretend that we hadn't overheard what they had been saying, I added, "I didn't see Madame Maxime anywhere, though, and she'd have a job hiding, wouldn't she?"

Dumbledore smiled at me behind Fudge's back, his eyes twinkling.

"Yes, well," said Fudge, looking embarrassed, "we're about to go for a short walk on the grounds, Harry, Katrina, if you'll excuse us...perhaps if you just go back to your classes -"

"We wanted to talk to you. Professor," I said quickly, looking at Dumbledore, who gave me a swift, searching look.

"Wait here for me, Katrina, Harry," he said. "Our examination of the grounds will not take long."

They trooped out in silence past us and closed the door. After a minute or so, Harry and I heard the clunks of Moody's wooden leg growing fainter in the corridor below. We looked around.

"Hello, Fawkes," I said as he swooped down to perch on my shoulder. I stroked his fiery feathers.

Fawkes, grandfather's phoenix, was the size of a swan, with magnificent scarlet-and-gold plumage, he swished his long tail and blinked benignly at me as I petted him.

Harry sat down in a chair in front of Dumbledore's desk. For several minutes, we  
sat and watched the old headmasters and headmistresses snoozing in their frames, thinking about what we had just heard, and running our fingers over our scars. They had stopped hurting now, much to my relief.

As I stroke Fawkes's feathers I felt much calmer, somehow, now that I was in grandfather's office, knowing we would shortly be telling him about the dream. I looked up at the walls behind the desk. The patched and ragged Sorting Hat was standing on a shelf. A glass case next to it held a magnificent silver sword with large rubies set into the hilt, which I recognized as the one Harry had pulled out of the Sorting Hat in our second year. 

The sword had once belonged to Godric Gryffindor, founder of Harry's House. I was gazing at it, remembering my time in that cold chamber, when I noticed a patch of silvery light, dancing and shimmering on the glass case. 

Harry and I looked around for the source of the light and saw a sliver of silver-white shining brightly from within a black cabinet behind us, whose door had not been closed properly. 

I hesitated, glanced at Fawkes, then got up, walked across the office, and pulled open the cabinet door.

A shallow stone basin lay there, with odd carvings around the edge: runes and symbols that Harry did not recognize. The silvery light was coming from the basin's contents, which were like nothing I had ever seen before. I could not tell whether the substance was liquid or gas. It was a bright, whitish silver, and it was moving ceaselessly; the surface of it became ruffled like water beneath wind, and then, like clouds, separated and swirled smoothly. It looked like light made liquid - or like wind made solid - I couldn't make up my mind.

I wanted to touch it, to find out what it felt like, but nearly four years' experience of the magical world told me that sticking my hand into a bowl full of some unknown substance was a very stupid thing to do. Harry and I therefore pulled our wands out of the inside of our robes, cast a nervous look around the office, looked back at the contents of the basin, and prodded them.

The surface of the silvery stuff inside the basin began to swirl very fast.

We bent closer, our heads right inside the cabinet. The silvery substance had become transparent; it looked like glass. I looked down into it expecting to see the stone bottom of the basin - and saw instead an enormous room below the surface of the mysterious substance, a room into which I seemed to be looking through a circular window in the ceiling.

The room was dimly lit; I thought it might even be underground, for there were no windows, merely torches in brackets such as the ones that illuminated the walls of Hogwarts. 

Lowering my face so that my nose was a mere inch away from the glassy substance, I saw that rows and rows of witches and wizards were seated around every wall on what seemed to be benches rising in levels. An empty chair stood in the very center of the room. There was something about the chair that gave me an ominous feeling. Chains encircled the arms of it, as though its occupants were usually tied to it.

Where was this place? It surely wasn't Hogwarts; I had never seen a room like that here in the castle. Moreover, the crowd in the mysterious room at the bottom of the basin was comprised of adults, and I knew there were not nearly that many teachers at Hogwarts. 

They seemed, I thought, to be waiting for something; even though I could only see the tops of their hats, all of their faces seemed to be pointing in one direction, and none of them were talking to one another.

The basin being circular, and the room we were observing square, Harry and I could not make out what was going on in the corners of it. I leaned even closer, tilting my head, trying to see...

The tip of my nose touched the strange substance into which I was staring.

Grandfather's office gave an almighty lurch - Harry and I were thrown forward and pitched headfirst into the substance inside the basin -

But my head did not hit the stone bottom. We were falling through something icy- cold and black; it was like being sucked into a dark whirlpool -

And suddenly, I found myself sitting on a bench at the end of the room inside the basin, a bench raised high above the others. I looked up at the high stone ceiling, expecting to see the circular window through which we had just been staring, but there was nothing there but dark, solid stone.

Breathing hard and fast. I looked around me. I was sitting right next to Albus Dumbledore.  
I forgot myself in the moment. "Grandfather!" I said in a kind of strangled whisper. "I'm sorry - I didn't mean to - I was just looking at that basin in your cabinet - I - where are we?"

But grandfather didn't move or speak or acknowledge the fact that I had almost revealed our little secret. He ignored Harry and I completely. Like every other wizard on the benches, he was staring into the far corner of the room, where there was a door.

I gazed, nonplussed, at Dumbledore, then around at the silently watchful crowd, then back at Dumbledore. And then it dawned on me...this must be a memory and the bowl must have been a pensieve. I had read about them with Hermione last year. I gasped as the memory unfolded before my eyes. 

 

********************************************

"Professor," I gasped, "I know we shouldn't've - I didn't mean - the cabinet door was sort of open and -"

"I quite understand," said grandfather. He lifted the basin, carried it over to his desk, placed it upon the polished top, and sat down in the chair behind it. He motioned for Harry and I to sit down opposite him.

We did so, staring at the stone basin. The contents had returned to their original, silvery-white state, swirling and rippling beneath his gaze.

"What is it?" Harry asked shakily.

"This? It is called a Pensieve," said Dumbledore. "I sometimes find, and I am sure you know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind."

"Er," said Harry, I kept silent, not knowing what to say.

"At these times," said Dumbledore, indicating the stone basin, "I use the Pensieve. One simply siphons the excess thoughts from one's mind, pours them into the basin, and examines them at one's leisure. It becomes easier to spot patterns and links, you understand, when they are in this form."

"You mean...that stuff's your thoughts?" Harry said, staring at the swirling white substance in the basin. I rolled my eyes at Harry. He was adorably slow sometimes.

"Certainly," said Dumbledore. "Let me show you.

Grandfather drew his wand out of the inside of his robes and placed the tip into his own silvery hair, near his temple. When he took the wand away, hair seemed to be clinging to it - but then we saw that it was in fact a glistening strand of the same strange silvery-white substance that filled the Pensieve. Dumbledore added this fresh thought to the basin, and Harry and I saw our own faces swimming around the surface of the bowl. Grandfather placed his long hands on either side of the Pensieve and swirled it, rather as a gold prospector would pan for fragments of gold...and I saw my own face change smoothly into Snape's, who opened his mouth and spoke to the ceiling, his voice echoing slightly.

"It's coming back...Karkaroff's too...stronger and clearer than ever..."

"A connection I could have made without assistance," Dumbledore sighed, "but never mind." He peered over the top of his half-moon spectacles at Harry and I who were gaping at Snape's face, which was continuing to swirl around the bowl. "I was using the Pensieve when Mr. Fudge arrived for our meeting and put it away rather hastily. Undoubtedly I did not fasten the cabinet door properly. Naturally, it would have attracted your attention."

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, hanging my head. He was one of the few family members I had left, I couldn't stand the thought that I might have disappointed him.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Curiosity is not a sin," he said. "But we should exercise caution with our curiosity...yes, indeed..."

Frowning slightly, he prodded the thoughts within the basin with the tip of his wand. 

Instantly, a figure rose out of it, a plump, scowling girl of about sixteen, who began to revolve slowly, with her feet still in the basin. She took no notice whatsoever of Harry or Professor Dumbledore. When she spoke, her voice echoed as Snape's had done, as though it were coming from the depths of the stone basin. 

"He put a hex on me, Professor Dumbledore, and I was only teasing him, sir, I only said I'd seen him kissing Florence behind the greenhouses last Thursday..."

"But why. Bertha," said Dumbledore sadly, looking up at the now silently revolving girl, "why did you have to follow him in the first place?"

"Bertha?" I whispered, looking up at her. "Is that - was that Bertha Jorkins?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore, prodding the thoughts in the basin again; Bertha sank back into them, and they became silvery and opaque once more. "That was Bertha as I remember her at school."

The silvery light from the Pensieve illuminated Grandfather's face, and it struck me suddenly how very old he was looking. I knew, of course, that Dumbledore was getting on in years, but somehow I never really thought of Dumbledore as an old man. This thought scared me more than I cared to admit. I didn't want to think anything along those lines. I didn't think I could handle losing another family member anytime soon.

"So, Katrina, Harry," said Dumbledore quietly. "Before you got lost in my thoughts, you wanted to tell me something."

"Yes," said Harry. "Professor - I was in Divination just now, and Katrina was in Arithmancy and - er - we fell asleep."  
He hesitated here, wondering if a reprimand was coming, but Dumbledore merely said,   
"Quite understandable. Continue."

"Well, we had a dream," said Harry, I let him speak as I was lost in my depressing thoughts of my grandfather dying on me before his time. 

"A dream about Lord Voldemort. He was torturing Wormtail...you know who Wormtail-"

"I do know," said Dumbledore promptly. "Please continue."

"Voldemort got a letter from an owl. He said something like, Wormtail's blunder had been repaired. He said someone was dead. Then he said, Wormtail wouldn't be fed to the snake - there was a snake beside his chair. He said - he said he'd be feeding me to it,  
instead. Then he did the Cruciatus Curse on Wormtail - and mine and Kat's scars hurt," Harry said. "It woke us up, it hurt so badly."

Dumbledore merely looked at us. "Er - that's all," said Harry.

"I see," said Dumbledore quietly. "I see. Now, have your scars hurt at any other time this year, excepting the time it woke you up over the summer?"

"No, I - how did you know it woke us up over the summer?" I said, astonished.

"You are not Sirius's only correspondent," said my grandfather, his eyes twinkling at me. "I have also been in contact with him ever since he left Hogwarts last year. It was I who suggested the mountainside cave as the safest place for him to stay." I smiled at my grandfather, happy that he had apparently been helping out my father.

Dumbledore got up and began walking up and down behind his desk. Every now and then, he placed his wand tip to his temple, removed another shining silver thought, and added it to the Pensieve. The thoughts inside began to swirl so fast that I couldn't make out anything clearly: It was merely a blur of color.

"Professor?" I said quietly, after a couple of minutes. Dumbledore stopped pacing and looked at me.

"My apologies," he said quietly. He sat back down at his desk. "D'you - d'you know why our scars are hurting us?"

Dumbledore looked very intently at Harry and I for a moment, and then said, "I have a theory, no more than that...It is my belief that your scars hurts both when Lord Voldemort is near you, and when he is feeling a particularly strong surge of hatred."

"But...why?"

"Because you and he are connected by the curse that failed," said Dumbledore. "That is no ordinary scar."

"So you think...that dream...did it really happen?"

"It is possible," said Dumbledore. "I would say - probable. Katrina, Harry - did you see Voldemort?"

"No," we said. "Just the back of his chair. But - there wouldn't have been anything to see, would there? I mean, he hasn't got a body, has he? But...but then how could he have held the wand?" I said slowly, my eyes widening in fear.

"How indeed?" muttered Dumbledore. "How indeed . . ."

Neither Dumbledore, Harry, or I spoke for a while. Dumbledore was gazing across the room, and, every now and then, placing his wand tip to his temple and adding another shining silver thought to the seething mass within the Pensieve.

"Professor," I said at last, "do you think he's getting stronger?"

"Voldemort?" said Dumbledore, looking at me over the Pensieve. It was the characteristic, piercing look Dumbledore had given me on other occasions, and always made me feel as though grandfather were seeing right through me in a way that even Moody's magical eye could not. "Once again, I can only give you my suspicions."

Dumbledore sighed again, and he looked older, and wearier, than ever. I mentally smacked myself upside the head to stop myself heading down that road again. He was not that old and I was going to have plenty of years to enjoy being his granddaughter once Voldemort was finally gone for good!

"The years of Voldemort's ascent to power," he said, "were marked with disappearances. Bertha Jorkins has vanished without a trace in the place where Voldemort was certainly known to be last. Mr. Crouch too has disappeared...within these very grounds. And there was a third disappearance, one which the Ministry, I regret to say, do not consider of any importance, for it concerns a Muggle. His name was Frank Bryce, he lived in the village where Voldemort's father grew up, and he has not been seen since last August. You see, I read the Muggle newspapers, unlike most of my Ministry friends."

Dumbledore looked very seriously at me.  
"These disappearances seem to me to be linked. The Ministry disagrees - as you may have heard, while waiting outside my office."

I nodded. Silence fell between us all again, Dumbledore extracting thoughts every now and then. 

"Professor?" Harry suddenly said. 

"Yes, Harry?" said grandfather.

"Er...could I ask you about...that court thing we were in...in the Pensieve?"

"You could," said Dumbledore heavily. "I attended it many times, but some trials come back to me more clearly than others... particularly now..."

"You know - you know the trial you found us in? The one with Crouch's son? Well...were they talking about Neville's parents?"

Dumbledore gave Harry a very sharp look. " Has Neville never told you why he has been brought up by his grandmother?" he said.

Harry shook his head, while I nodded solemnly. Neville had told me in our first year but I had respected his wishes and not mentioned it to anyone.

"Yes, they were talking about Nevilles parents," said Dumbledore, for Harry's sake. "His father, Frank, was an Auror just like Professor Moody. He and his wife were tortured for information about Voldemort's whereabouts after he lost his powers, as you heard."

"So they're dead?" said Harry quietly. I shook my head, not that Harry noticed with his eyes on my grandfather.

"No," said Dumbledore, his voice full of a bitterness I had never heard there before. "They are insane. They are both in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I believe Neville visits them, with his grandmother, during the holidays. They do not recognize him."

Harry sat there, horror-struck. 

"The Longbottoms were very popular," said Dumbledore. "The attacks on them came after Voldemort's fall from power, just when everyone thought they were safe. Those attacks caused a wave of fury such as I have never known. The Ministry was under great pressure to catch those who had done it. Unfortunately, the Longbottoms' evidence was - given their condition - none too reliable."

"Then Mr. Crouch's son might not have been involved?" said Harry slowly. Dumbledore shook his head.

"As to that, I have no idea."

We sat in silence once more, watching the contents of the Pensieve swirl. 

"Er," Harry said after another pause, "Mr. Bagman..."

"...has never been accused of any Dark activity since," said Dumbledore calmly.

"Right," said Harry hastily, "And...er..."  
But the Pensieve seemed to be asking his question for him.

Snape's face was swimming on the surface again. Dumbledore glanced down into it, and then up at Harry. I rolled my eyes at Harry and caught grandfather's gaze and grinned slightly at him.

"No more has Professor Snape," he said.

"What made you think he'd really stopped supporting Voldemort, Professor?" I slumped into my seat, irritated with Harry for not letting his grudge with Snape go enough to not bother my grandfather with it when it was obvious how overworked and stressed he was.

Dumbledore held Harrys gaze for a few seconds, and then said, "That, Harry, is a matter between Professor Snape and myself."

Harry and I knew that the interview was over; Dumbledore did not look angry, yet there was a finality in his tone that told us it was time to go. We stood up, and so did Dumbledore.

"Harry, Katrina," he said as we reached the door. 

"Please do not speak about Neville's parents to anybody else. He has the right to let people know, when he is ready."

"I haven't and its been four years since I found out!" I said, slightly miffed that my grandfather felt the need to point out the need for secrecy to me of all people. 

"Yes, Professor," said Harry, and we turned to go. "And-"

We looked back. Grandfather was standing over the Pensieve, his face lit from beneath by its silvery spots of light, looking older than ever. He stared at Harry and I for a moment, and then said, "Good luck with the third task."

********************************************

In-Line Comments

\- Oh no, poor Kat having to come to terms with the fact that her grandfather is not as young as he used to be lol. Sidenote: love how jk built his character over the years and all praise the first actor who played Dumbledore for the first two movies but honestly as far as the movies go it was kind of a blessing since I can not picture the Dumbledore of the 1st and 2nd movie in the role that Dumbledore turns into over the years as Harry becomes older and starts seeing him without the rose tinted glasses of you if ya know what I mean


	89. The Third Task

Katrina's POV

"Dumbledore reckons You-Know-Who's getting stronger again as well?" Ron whispered.

Everything Harry and I had seen in the Pensieve, nearly everything Dumbledore had told and shown us afterward, we had now shared with Ron and Hermione - and, of course, with my father, to whom Harry and I had sent an owl the moment we had left Dumbledore's office. 

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I sat up late in the common room once again that night, talking it all over until my mind was reeling, until I understood what grandfather had meant about a head becoming so full of thoughts that it would have been a relief to siphon them off.

Ron stared into the common room fire. I thought I saw Ron shiver slightly, even though the evening was warm.

"And he trusts Snape?" Ron said. "He really trusts Snape, even though he knows he was a Death Eater?"

"Yes," said Harry. Ugh, how did I know Ron was going to focus on that the most of all the things we had told him!

Hermione had not spoken for ten minutes. She was sitting with her forehead in her hands, staring at her knees. I thought she too looked as though she could have done with a Pensieve.

"Rita Skeeter," she muttered finally.

"How can you be worrying about her now?" said Ron, in utter disbelief.

"I'm not worrying about her," Hermione said to her knees. "I'm just thinking...remember what she said to me in the Three Broomsticks? 'I know things about Ludo Bagman that would make your hair curl. ' This is what she meant, isn't it? She reported his trial, she knew he'd passed information to the Death Eaters. And Winky too, remember...' Ludo Bagman's a bad wizard.' Mr. Crouch would have been furious he got off, he would have talked about it at home."

"Yeah, but Bagman didn't pass information on purpose, did he?" Hermione shrugged.

"And Fudge reckons Madame Maxime attacked Crouch?" Ron said, turning back to Harry.

"Yeah," said Harry, "but he's only saying that because Crouch disappeared near the Beauxbatons carriage."

"We never thought of her, did we?" said Ron slowly. "Mind you, she's definitely got giant blood, and she doesn't want to admit it-"

"Of course she doesn't," said Hermione sharply, looking up. "Look what happened to Hagrid when Rita found out about his mother. Look at Fudge, jumping to conclusions about her, just because she's part giant. Who needs that sort of prejudice? I'd probably say I had big bones if I knew that's what I'd get for telling the truth."

Hermione looked at her watch. "We haven't done any practicing!" she said, looking shocked. "We were going to do the Impediment Curse! We'll have to really get down to it tomorrow! Come on. Harry, Katrina, you two need to get some sleep."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione went slowly upstairs to their dormitory while I made my way through the portrait hole and off to my own room. As I climbed into my four-poster, I imagined how it must feel to have parents still living but unable to recognize you. I often got sympathy from strangers for being an orphan, but as I laid in bed, I thought that Neville deserved it more than I did. Lying in the darkness, I felt a rush of anger and hate toward the people who had tortured Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom...I remembered the jeers of the crowd as Crouch's son and his companions had been dragged from the court by the dementors...I understood how they had felt...

Then I remembered the milk-white face of the screaming boy and realized with a jolt that he had died a year later...

It was Voldemort, I thought, staring up at the canopy of my bed in the darkness, it all came back to Voldemort...He was the one who had torn these families apart, who had ruined all these lives...

********************************************

Ron and Hermione were supposed to be studying for their exams, which would finish on the day of the third task, but they were putting most of their efforts into helping Harry and I prepare.

"Don't worry about it," Hermione said shortly when Harry and I pointed this out to them and said we didn't mind practicing on our own for a while, "at least we'll get top marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts. We'd never have found out about all these hexes in class."

"Good training for when we're all Aurors," said Ron excitedly, attempting the Impediment Curse on a wasp that had buzzed into the room and making it stop dead in midair.

The mood in the castle as we entered June became excited and tense again. Everyone was looking forward to the third task, which would take place a week before the end of term. Harry  and I were practicing hexes at every available moment. I felt more confident about this task than either of the others. Difficult and dangerous though it would undoubtedly be, Moody was right: Harry and I had managed to find our way past monstrous creatures and enchanted barriers before now, and this time we had some notice, some chance to prepare ourselves for what lay ahead.

Tired of walking in on Harry, Hermione, Ron, and I all over the school. Professor McGonagall had given us permission to use the empty Transfiguration classroom at lunchtimes. 

Harry and I had soon mastered the Impediment Curse, a spell to slow down and obstruct attackers; the Reductor Curse, which would enable us to blast solid objects out of our way; and the Four-Point Spell, a useful discovery of Hermione's that would make our wand point due north, therefore enabling us to check whether we were going in the right direction within the maze. Harry was still having trouble with the Shield Charm, though. 

This was supposed to cast a temporary, invisible wall around the caster that deflected minor curses; Hermione managed to shatter it with a well-placed Jelly-Legs Jinx, and Harry wobbled around the room for ten minutes afterward before she had looked up the counter- jinx, while I laughed my head off. I myself had also managed to get better control of my elemental powers and could form a ball of fire, air, water, and earth whenever I wanted along with a number of other useful tricks that would potentially come in handy.

"You're still doing really well, though," Hermione said encouragingly, looking down her list and crossing off those spells we had already learned. "Some of these are bound to come in handy."

"Come and look at this," said Ron, who was standing by the window. He was staring down onto the grounds. "What's Malfoy doing?"

Harry, Hermione, and I went to see. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing in the shadow of a tree below. Crabbe and Goyle seemed to be keeping a lookout; both were smirking. Malfoy was holding his hand up to his mouth and speaking into it.

"He looks like he's using a walkie-talkie," said Harry, curiously.

"He can't be," I said, 

"We've told you, those sorts of things don't work around Hogwarts. Come on, Harry," Hermione added briskly, turning away from the window and moving back into the middle of the room, "let's try that Shield Charm again."

My father was sending daily owls now. Like Hermione, he seemed to want to concentrate on getting Harry and I through the last task before we concerned ourselves with anything else. He reminded us in every letter that whatever might be going on outside the walls of Hogwarts was not our responsibility, nor was it within our power to influence it.

If Voldemort is really getting stronger again, he wrote, my priority is to ensure your safety. He cannot hope to lay hands on the two of you while you are under Dumbledore's protection, but all the same, take no risks: Concentrate on getting through that maze safely, and then we can turn our attention to other matters.

My nerves mounted as June the twenty-fourth drew closer, but they were not as bad as those I had felt before the first and second tasks. For one thing, I was confident that, this time, we had done everything in our power to prepare for the task. For another, this was the final hurdle, and however well or badly Harry and I did, the tournament would at last be over, which would be an enormous relief.

Breakfast was a very noisy affair at the Gryffindor table on the morning of the third task. The post owls appeared, bringing Harry and I a good-luck card from Sirius. It was only a piece of parchment, folded over and bearing a muddy paw print on its front, but Harry and I appreciated it all the same. A screech owl arrived for Hermione and I, carrying our morning copy of the Daily Prophet as usual. 

We unfolded the papers, glanced at the front page, and spat out mouthfuls of pumpkin juice all over it.

"What?" said Harry and Ron together, staring at us. "Nothing," we said quickly, trying to shove the paper out of sight, but Ron grabbed Hermione's copy.

He stared at the headline and said, "No way. Not today. That old cow."

"What?" said Harry. "Rita Skeeter again?" 

"No," said Ron, and just like Hermione, he attempted to push the paper out of sight.

"It's about me, isn't it?" said Harry.

"No," said Ron, in an entirely unconvincing tone. But before Harry could demand to see the paper. Draco Malfoy shouted across the Great Hall from the Slytherin table.

"Hey, Potter! Potter! How's your head? You feeling all right? Sure you're not going to go berserk on us?"

Malfoy was holding a copy of the Daily Prophet too. Slytherins up and down the table were sniggering, twisting in their seats to see Harry's reaction. I noticed he hadn't mentioned me in that comment though I knew from my brief glance at the headline that I was definitely mentioned. But I didn't want to read it nor did I want Harry to.

"Let me see it," Harry said to me. "Give it here." I shook my head and held it behind my hands but Harry just grinned at me with a wicked glint in his eyes and ever so slowly leaned forwards towards me. I sank back as far as I could but eventually there was nowhere to go and his lips met mine and all else was forgotten. I barely noticed the paper being gently taken from my grip until he let me up for a breath. I frowned at him as he grinned and winked at me. So not fair!

Harry turned over the paper and we found ourselves staring at our own picture, beneath the banner headline:

"HARRY POTTER AND KATRINA BLACK: DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS"

The boy and girl who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named are unstable and possibly dangerous, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Alarming evidence has recently come to light about Harry Potter's strange behavior and Katrina Blacks parentage, which casts doubts upon their suitability to compete in a demanding competition like the Triwizard Tournament, or even to attend Hogwarts School.

It has come to light that Katrina is none other than the Daughter of Eliana Dumbledore and notorious mass murderer, Sirius Black. On the one hand, while she may be a Dumbledore, there is reason to believe that her father's proclivity for mischief and rule-breaking live on in his daughter. Which could easily leave us with another psychotic murderer on our hands.

Potter and Black, the Daily Prophet can exclusively reveal, regularly collapse at school, and are often heard to complain of pain in the scar on their forehead and collarbone (relics of the curse with which You-Know-Who attempted to kill them). On Monday last, midway through a Divination and Arithmancy lesson, your Daily Prophet reporter witnessed Potter and Black storming from their classes, claiming that their scars were hurting too badly to continue studying.

It is possible, say top experts at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, that Potter's and Black's brains were affected by the attack inflicted upon them by You- Know-Who, and that their insistence that their scars are still hurting is an expression of their deep-seated confusion.

"They might even be pretending," said one specialist. "This could be a plea for attention."  
The Daily Prophet, however, has unearthed worrying facts about Harry Potter and Katrina Black/Dumbledore that Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, has carefully concealed from the wizarding public.

"Potter and Black can speak Parseltongue," reveals Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson, two Hogwarts fourth years. "There were a lot of attacks on students a couple of years ago, and most people thought Potter and Black were behind them after they saw them lose their temper at a dueling club and set a snake on another boy. It was all hushed up, though. But they've made friends with werewolves and giants too. We think they'd do anything for a bit of power."

Parseltongue, the ability to converse with snakes, has long been considered a Dark Art. Indeed, the most famous Parselmouth of our times is none other than You- Know-Who himself. A member of the Dark Force Defense League, who wished to remain unnamed, stated that he would regard any wizard who could speak Parseltongue "as worthy of investigation. Personally, I would be highly suspicious of anybody who could converse with snakes, as serpents are often used in the worst kinds of Dark Magic, and are historically associated with evildoers." 

Similarly, "anyone who seeks out the company of such vicious creatures as werewolves and giants would appear to have a fondness for violence."

Albus Dumbledore should surely consider whether a boy and girl such as this should be allowed to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. Some fear that Potter and Black might resort to the Dark Arts in their desperation to win the tournament, the third task of which takes place this evening.

"Gone off us a bit, hasn't she?" said Harry lightly, folding up the paper. 

Over at the Slytherin table, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were laughing at Harry, tapping their heads with their fingers, pulling grotesquely mad faces, and waggling their tongues like snakes. Draco's face flickered with concern and fear as I glared at him. He shook his head and pointed to Pansy Parkinson and though I knew he was telling me he hadn't revealed my secret, I was furious with him for ever having mentioned anything about me to the pig-faced Pansy Parkinson.

"How did she know your scar hurt in Divination, Harry, and yours in Arithmancy, Kat?" Ron said. "There's no way she was there, there's no way she could've heard -"

"The window was open," said Harry. "I opened it to breathe." I nodded and told the my window had also been open.

"We were at the top of North Tower!" Hermione said. "Your voices couldn't have carried all the way down to the grounds!"

"Well, you're the one who's supposed to be researching magical methods of bugging!" said Harry. "You tell me how she did it!"

"I've been trying!" said Hermione. "But I... but..."

An odd, dreamy expression suddenly came over Hermione's face. She slowly raised a hand and ran her fingers through her hair.

"Are you all right?" said Ron, frowning at her.

"Yes," said Hermione breathlessly. She ran her fingers through her hair again, and then held her hand up to her mouth, as though speaking into an invisible walkie- talkie. Harry, Ron, and I stared at each other.

"I've had an idea," Hermione said, gazing into space. "I think I know...because then no one would be able to see...even Moody...and she'd have been able to get onto the window ledge...but she's not allowed...she's definitely not allowed...I think we've got her! Just give me two seconds in the library - just to make sure!"

With that, Hermione seized her school bag and dashed out of the Great Hall.

"Oi!" Ron called after her. "We've got our History of Magic exam in ten minutes! Blimey," he said, turning back to Harry and I, "she must really hate that Skeeter woman to risk missing the start of an exam. What're you two going to do in Binns's class - read again?"

Exempt from the end-of-term tests as a Triwizard champion, Harry and I had been sitting in the back of every exam class so far, looking up fresh hexes for the third task.

"S'pose so," Harry said to Ron; but just then. Professor McGonagall came walking alongside the Gryffindor table toward us.

"Potter, Katrina, the champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast," she said.

"But the task's not till tonight!" I said, accidentally spilling scrambled eggs down my front, afraid I had mistaken the time.

"I'm aware of that," she said. "The champions' families are invited to watch the final task, you know. This is simply a chance for you to greet them."

She moved away. Harry and I gaped after her.

"She doesn't expect the Dursleys to turn up, does she?" Harry asked Ron and I blankly.

I sheugged my shoulders, knowing that it was beyond all possibility for her to have meant that Sirius Black had suddenly been allowed on the grounds of Hogwarts.

"Dunno," said Ron. "Harry, Katrina, I'd better hurry, I'm going to be late for Binns. See you later."

Harry and I finished our breakfast in the emptying Great Hall. I saw Fleur Delacour get up from the Ravenclaw table and join Cedric as he crossed to the side chamber and entered. 

Krum slouched off to join them shortly afterward. Harry and I stayed where we were. I really didn't want to go into the chamber. I had no family - no family, at least, who could openly turn up to see me risk his life, anyway. Then, again, now that Skeeter had let the "Kat" (:p) out of the bag, I guess Dumbledore could. But just as we were getting up, thinking that we might as well go up to the library and do a spot more hex research, the door of the side chamber opened, and Cedric stuck his head out.

"Harry, Katrina, come on, they're waiting for you!"

Utterly perplexed. Harry and I got up. Sirius couldn't possibly be here, could he? I walked across the Hall and opened the door into the chamber.

Cedric and his parents were just inside the door. Viktor Krum was over in a corner, conversing with his dark-haired mother and father in rapid Bulgarian. He had inherited his fathers hooked nose. On the other side of the room, Fleur was jabbering away in French to her mother. Fleur's little sister, Gabrielle, was holding her mother's hand. She waved at Harry and I who waved back, grinning. Then we saw Mrs. Weasley and Bill standing in front of the fireplace, beaming at us.

"Surprise!" Mrs. Weasley said excitedly as we smiled broadly and walked over to them.   
"Thought we'd come and watch you. Harry! Katrina!" She bent down and kissed us on the cheek.

"You all right?" said Bill, grinning at us and shaking Harry's hand and giving me a warm hug. "Charlie wanted to come, but he couldn't get time off. He said you two were incredible against the Horntail and the King of Dragons."

Fleur Delacour, I noticed, was eyeing Bill with great interest over her mother's shoulder. I could tell she had no objection whatsoever to long hair or earrings with fangs on them and grinned as I nudged Bill and wiggled my brows at him.

"This is really nice of you," Harry muttered to Mrs. Weasley. "I thought for a moment - Sirius"

"Hmm," said Mrs. Weasley, pursing her lips. She must have read the latest copy of the Daily Prophet since she clearly knew who I was referring to and why I thought what I had. Since I knew she had always refrained from criticizing the Dursleys in front of Harry, but seen her eyes flashed every time they were mentioned, I could only imagine what she was holding back about her thoughts on my own family. Bill, however, nudged me with a smirk and a whispered, "so, you're a Dumbledore!" 

"It's great being back here," said Bill, looking around the chamber (Violet, the Fat Lady's friend, winked at him from her frame). "Haven't seen this place for five years. Is that picture of the mad knight still around? Sir Cadogan?"

"Oh yeah," said Harry and I, who had met Sir Cadogan the previous year. "And the Fat Lady?" said Bill.

"She was here in my time," said Mrs. Weasley. "She gave me such a telling off one night when I got back to the dormitory at four in the morning -"

"What were you doing out of your dormitory at four in the morning?" said Bill, surveying his mother with amazement.

Mrs. Weasley grinned, her eyes twinkling.  
"Your father and I had been for a nighttime stroll," she said. "He got caught by Apollyon Pringle - he was the caretaker in those days - your father's still got the marks."

"Fancy giving us a tour, Harry, mini Dumbledore?" said Bill. I looked at him pointedly but he just grinned at me.

"Yeah, okay," said Harry, and we made our way back toward the door into the Great Hall. As we passed Amos Diggory, he looked around.  
"There you are, are you?" he said, looking Harry and I up and down.

"Bet you're not feeling quite as full of yourself now Cedrics caught you up on points, are you?"

"What?" said Harry and I, I opened my mouth to point out that I was beating Harry and the one who was tied with Cedric, but then decided to just leave it be.

"Ignore him," said Cedric in a low voice to Harry and I, frowning after his father. 

"He's been angry ever since Rita Skeeters article about the Triwizard Tournament - you know, when she made out you two were the only Hogwarts champion."

"Didn't bother to correct her, though, did they?" said Amos Diggory, loudly enough for Harry and I to hear as he started to walk out of the door with Mrs. Weasley and Bill. "Still,...you'll show them, Ced. Beaten them once before, haven't you?"

"Rita Skeeter goes out of her way to cause trouble, Amos!" Mrs. Weasley said angrily. "I would have thought you'd know that, working at the Ministry!"

Mr. Diggory looked as though he was going to say something angry, but his wife laid a hand on his arm, and he merely shrugged and turned away.

Harry and I had a very enjoyable morning walking over the sunny grounds with Bill and Mrs. Weasley, showing them the Beauxbatons carriage and the Durmstrang ship. Mrs. Weasley was intrigued by the Whomping Willow, which had been planted after she had left school, and reminisced at length about the gamekeeper before Hagrid, a man called Ogg.

"How's Percy?" Harry asked as we walked around the greenhouses. 

"Not good," said Bill.

"He's very upset," said Mrs. Weasley, lowering her voice and glancing around. "The Ministry wants to keep Mr. Crouch's disappearance quiet, but Percy's been hauled in for questioning about the instructions Mr. Crouch has been sending in. They seem to think there's a chance they weren't genuinely written by him. Percy's been under a lot of strain. They're not letting him fill in for Mr. Crouch as the fifth judge tonight. Cornelius Fudge is going to be doing it."

We returned to the castle for lunch.

"Mum - Bill!" said Ron, looking stunned, as he joined the Gryffindor table. "What're you doing here?"

"Come to watch Harry and Katrina in the last task!" said Mrs. Weasley brightly. "I must say, it makes a lovely change, not having to cook. How was your exam?"

"Oh...okay," said Ron. "Couldn't remember all the goblin rebels' names, so I invented a few. It's all right," he said, helping himself to a Cornish pasty, while Mrs. Weasley looked stern, "they're all called stuff like Bodrod the Bearded and Urg the Unclean; it wasn't hard."

Fred, George, and Ginny came to sit next to us too, and Harry and I were having such a good time I felt almost as though I were back at the Burrow; I had forgotten to worry about that evening's task, and not until Hermione turned up, halfway through lunch, did I remember that she had had a brainwave about Rita Skeeter.

"Are you going to tell us - ?"

Hermione shook her head warningly and glanced at Mrs. Weasley.

"Hello, Hermione," said Mrs. Weasley, much more stiffly than usual.

"Hello," said Hermione, her smile faltering at the cold expression on Mrs. Weasley's face.

Harry looked between them, then said, "Mrs. Weasley, you didn't believe that rubbish Rita Skeeter wrote in Witch Weekly, did you? Because neither Hermione or Katrina are my girlfriend."

"Oh!" said Mrs. Weasley "No - of course I didn't!"

But she became considerably warmer toward Hermione after that.

Harry, Bill, Mrs. Weasley and I whiled away the afternoon with a long walk around the castle, and then returned to the Great Hall for the evening feast. Ludo Bagman and Cornelius Fudge had joined the staff table now. Bagman looked quite cheerful, but Cornelius Fudge, who was sitting next to Madame Maxime, looked stern and was not talking. Madame Maxime was concentrating on her plate, and I thought her eyes looked red. Hagrid kept glancing along the table at her,

There were more courses than usual, but Harry and I who were starting to feel really nervous now, didn't eat much. As the enchanted ceiling overhead began to fade from blue to a dusky purple, Dumbledore rose to his feet at the staff table, and silence fell.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now."

Harry and I got up. The Gryffindors all along the table were applauding us; the Weasleys and Hermione all wished us good luck, and we headed off out of the Great Hall with Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor.

"Feeling all right. Harry? Katrina?" Bagman asked as they went down the stone steps onto the grounds. "Confident?"

"We're okay," I said. It was sort of true; I was nervous, but I kept running over all the hexes and spells we had been practicing in my mind as we walked, and the knowledge that I could remember them all made me feel better. So did the fact that I was able to conjured up and manipulate all of the elements as I desired as I practiced some mini drills I had made for myself inside the palms of my hands.

We walked onto the Quidditch field, which was now completely unrecognizable. A twenty-foot-high hedge ran all the way around the edge of it. There was a gap right in front of us: the entrance to the vast maze. The passage beyond it looked dark and creepy.

Five minutes later, the stands had begun to fill; the air was full of excited voices and the rumbling of feet as the hundreds of students filed into their seats. The sky was a deep, clear blue now, and the first stars were starting to appear. Hagrid, Professor Moody, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick came walking into the stadium and approached Bagman and the champions. They were wearing large, red, luminous stars on their hats, all except Hagrid, who had his on the back of his moleskin vest.

"We are going to be patrolling the outside of the maze," said Professor McGonagall to the champions. "If you get into difficulty, and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air, and one of us will come and get you, do you understand?" She looked worriedly at me as she had been doing a lot lately which while I appreciated, irritated me all the same. I mean,  
did she think me incapable of protecting myself after four years and all the crazy things that had happened during them?!

We all nodded.

"Off you go, then!" said Bagman brightly to the four patrollers.

"Good luck. Harry, Katrina," Hagrid whispered, and the four of them walked away in different directions, to station themselves around the maze. Bagman now pointed his wand at his throat, muttered, "Sonorus," and his magically magnified voice echoed into the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each - Mr. Cedric Diggory and Miss Katrina Black, both of Hogwarts School!" The cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky. I blinked in surprise as Bagman added the name of Black to my name. He must have seen the article as well but I didn't mind, now that I thought about it. I was proud to be his daughter, whether or not everyone else still believed him guilty.

"In second place, tied with eighty points - Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute! and Mr. Harry Potter of Hogwarts. More applause. "And in third place - Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!"

I could just make out Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron, and Hermione applauding Fleur politely, halfway up the stands. I waved up at them, and they waved back, beaming at me.

"So...on my whistle, Katrin and Cedric!" said Bagman. I glanced at Harry and gave him a thumbs up as my stomach fluttered. "Three - two - one -"

He gave a short blast on his whistle, and Cedric and I hurried forward into the maze.

The towering hedges cast black shadows across the path, and, whether because they were so tall and thick or because they had been enchanted, the sound of the surrounding crowd was silenced the moment I entered the maze. 

I felt almost as though I were underwater again. I pulled out my wand, muttered, "Lumos," and heard Cedric do the same just behind me.

After about fifty yards, we reached a fork. We looked at each other. "See you, good luck," I said, and took the left one, while Cedric took the right.

I heard Bagman's whistle for the second time. Harry and Krum had entered the maze. I sped up. My chosen path seemed completely deserted. I turned right, and hurried on, holding my wand high over my head, trying to see as far ahead as possible. Still, there was nothing in sight.

Bagman's whistle blew in the distance for the third time. All of the champions were now inside.

I kept looking behind me. The old feeling that I was being watched was upon me. The maze was growing darker with every passing minute as the sky overhead deepened to navy. I reached a second fork.

"Point Me," I whispered to my wand, holding it flat in my palm.

The wand spun around once and pointed toward my right, into solid hedge. That way was north, and I knew that I needed to go northwest for the center of the maze. The best I could do was to take the left fork and go right again as soon as possible.

The path ahead was empty too, and when I reached a right turn and took it, I again found my way unblocked. I didn't know why, but the lack of obstacles was unnerving me. Surely I should have met something by now? It felt as though the maze were luring me into a false sense of security. Then I heard movement right behind me. I held out my wand, ready to attack, but its beam fell only upon Cedric, who had just hurried out of a path on the right-hand side. Cedric looked severely shaken. The sleeve of his robe was smoking.

"Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts!" he hissed.   
"They're enormous - I only just got away!"

He shook his head and dived out of sight, along another path. Keen to put plenty of distance between myself and the skrewts, I hurried off again. Then, as I turned a corner, I saw...a dementor gliding toward me. Twelve feet tall, its face hidden by its hood, its rotting, scabbed hands outstretched, it advanced, sensing its way blindly toward me. I could hear its rattling breath; I felt clammy coldness stealing over me, but knew what I had to do...

I summoned the happiest thought I could, concentrated with all my might on the thought of getting out of the maze and celebrating with Harry, Ron and Hermione, raised my wand, and cried, "Expecto Patronum!"

A silver stag tiger erupted from the end of my wand and galloped toward the dementor, (last year my patronus had been a lioness, but amongst other things, I had been practicing different forms this year) which fell back and tripped over the hem of its robes...I had never seen a dementor stumble.

"Hang on!" I shouted, advancing in the wake of my silver Patronus, "You're a boggart! Riddikulus!"

There was a loud crack, and the shape-shifter exploded in a wisp of smoke. The silver tiger faded from sight. I wished it could have stayed, I could have used some company...but I moved on, quickly and quietly as possible, listening hard, my wand held high once more.

Left...right...left again...Twice I found myself facing dead ends. I did the Four-Point Spell again and found that I was going too far east. I turned back, took a right turn, and saw an odd golden mist floating ahead of me.

I approached it cautiously, pointing the wand's beam at it. This looked like some kind of enchantment. I wondered whether I might be able to blast it out of the way.

"Reducto!" I said.

The spell shot straight through the mist, leaving it intact. I supposed I should have known better; the Reductor Curse was for solid objects. What would happen if I walked through the mist? Was it worth chancing it, or should I double back?

I was still hesitating when a scream shattered the silence. "Fleur?" I yelled.

There was silence. I stared all around me. What had happened to her? Her scream seemed to have come from somewhere ahead. I took a deep breath and ran through the enchanted mist.

The world turned upside down. I was hanging from the ground, with my hair on end. I hung there, terrified. It felt as though my feet were glued to the grass, which had now become the ceiling. Below me the dark, star-spangled heavens stretched endlessly. I felt as though if I tried to move one of my feet, I would fall away from the earth completely.

Think, I told myself, as all the blood rushed to my head, think...

But not one of the spells or elemental magic I had practiced had been designed to combat a sudden reversal of ground and sky. Did I dare move my foot? I could hear the blood pounding in my ears. I had two choices - try and move, or send up red sparks, and get rescued and disqualified from the task.

I shut my eyes, so I wouldn't be able to see the view of endless space below me, and pulled my right foot as hard as I could away from the grassy ceiling.

Immediately, the world righted itself. I fell forward onto my knees onto the wonderfully solid ground. I felt temporarily limp with shock. I took a deep, steadying breath, then got up again and hurried forward, looking back over my shoulder as I ran away from the golden mist, which twinkled innocently at me in the moonlight.

I paused at a junction of two paths and looked around for some sign of Fleur. I was sure it had been she who had screamed. What had she met? Was she all right? There was no sign of red sparks - did that mean she had got herself out of trouble, or was she in such trouble that she couldn't reach her wand? I took the right fork with a feeling of increasing unease...but at the same time, I couldn't help thinking. One champion down...

The cup was somewhere close by, and it sounded as though Fleur was no longer in the running. I'd got this far, hadn't I? What if I actually managed to win? Fleetingly, and for the first time since I'd found myself champion, I saw again that image of myself raising the Triwizard Cup in front of the rest of the school...

I met nothing for ten minutes, but kept running into dead ends. Twice I took the same wrong turning. Finally, I found a new route and started to jog along it, my wandlight waving, making my shadow flicker and distort on the hedge walls. Then I rounded another corner and found myself facing a Blast-Ended Skrewt.

Cedric was right - it was enormous. Ten feet long, it looked more like a giant scorpion than anything. Its long sting was curled over its back. Its thick armor glinted in the light from my wand, which I pointed at it.

"Stupefy!"

The spell hit the skrewt's armor and rebounded; I ducked just in time, but could smell burning hair; it had singed the top of my head. The skrewt issued a blast of fire from its end and flew forward toward me.

"Impedimenta!" I yelled. The spell hit the skrewt's armor again and ricocheted off; I staggered back a few paces and fell over. 

I formed a gigantic ball of water and ice in midair and the next time it lit itself up I made it rocket towards the skrewt and clenched my hand to make the water and ice mixture turn to fully solid ice.

Panting, I pushed myself away from the new ice sculpture and ran, hard, in the opposite direction. I didn't know if my elemental magic was permanent yet or not.

I took a left path and hit a dead end, a right, and hit another; forcing myself to stop, heart hammering, I performed the Four-Point Spell again, backtracked, and chose a path that would take me northwest.

I had been hurrying along the new path for a few minutes, when I felt a strange and empty feeling come over me and my mind went blank...

********************************************

Harry's POV

I heard something in the path running parallel to my own that made me stop dead.

"What are you doing?" yelled Cedric's voice.   
"What the hell d'you two think you're doing?"

And then Harry heard Krum's voice. "Crucio!"

The air was suddenly full of Cedric's yells. 

Horrified, I began sprinting up my path, trying to find a way into Cedric's. When none appeared, I tried the Reductor Curse again. It wasn't very effective, but it burned a small hole in the hedge through which I forced my leg, kicking at the thick brambles and branches until they broke and made an opening; I struggled through it, tearing my robes, and looking to my right, saw Cedric jerking and twitching on the ground, Krum and Katrina standing over him.

I pulled myself up and pointed my wand at Krum just as Krum looked up. Krum turned and began to run.

"Stupefy!" I yelled.

The spell hit Krum in the back; he stopped dead in his tracks, fell forward, and lay motionless, facedown in the grass. Katrina just stood there with a blank look on her face.

I dashed over to Cedric, who had stopped twitching and was lying there panting, his hands over his face.

"Are you all right?" I said roughly, grabbing Cedric's arm.

"Yeah," panted Cedric. "Yeah...I don't believe it...he crept up behind me...I heard him, I turned around, and he had his wand on me...then Katrina came up alongside him and just stood there with this glassy look."

Cedric got up. He was still shaking. He and I looked down at Krum.

"I can't believe this...I thought he was all right," I said, staring at Krum.

"So did I," said Cedric.

"Did you hear Fleur scream earlier?" I said.

"Yeah," said Cedric. "You don't think Krum got her too?"

"I don't know," I said slowly.

"Should we leave him here?" Cedric muttered.

"No," I said. "I reckon we should send up red sparks. Someone'll come and collect him...otherwise he'll probably be eaten by a skrewt."

"He'd deserve it," Cedric muttered. First things first, though, we walked over to Katrina. Something about the empty look on her face reminded me of our second year when she was down in the chamber of secrets but I couldn't think how or who could have cast the Imperius Curse since I doubted the strict new regulations of the tournament would have allowed for the use of the spell. I laid a hand on Kat's shoulder and shook her. 

She blinked slowly as her eyes started to clear and she glanced from Cedric to me and back. 

"What're you two doing here? What's going on? Is it over? Who won?" She said in confusion.

"No, I think someone might have put you under the Imperius Curse!" I told her. 

"Maybe if was Krum," Cedric suggested glaring at his unconscious body. "We know he's not afraid to use Crucio, so another forbidden curse wouldn't be surprising to me." 

Katrina's eyes widened and we filled her in on what happened before deciding that we needed to get back to the task at hand.

Cedric raised his wand and shot a shower of red sparks into the air, which hovered high above Krum, marking the spot where he lay.

Cedric, Kat, and I stood there in the darkness for a moment, looking around us. Then Cedric said, "Well...I s'pose we'd better go on..."

"What?" I said. "Oh...yeah...right..."

It was an odd moment. Cedric and I had been briefly united against Krum - now the fact that we were opponents came back to me. The three of us proceeded up the dark path without speaking, then Kat and I turned left, and Cedric right. Cedric's footsteps soon died away.

Katrina's POV

Harry and I moved on, continuing to use the Four-Point Spell, making sure we were moving in the right direction. It was between Harry, Cedric, and I now. My desire to reach the cup first was now burning stronger than ever, but I could hardly believe what I'd just been told had happened. The use of Unforgivable Curses on a fellow human being meant a life term in Azkaban, that was what Moody had told us. Krum surely couldn't have wanted the Triwizard Cup that badly...

Harry and I sped up and finally split off and I was on my own again.

Every so often I hit more dead ends, but the increasing darkness made me feel sure I was getting near the heart of the maze. Several minutes went by since I had left Harry on his own before anything new happened.

Then, as I strode down a long, straight path, I saw movement once again, and my beam of wandlight hit an extraordinary creature, one which I had only seen in picture form, in my Monster Book of Monsters.

 

It was a sphinx. It had the body of an over-large lion: great clawed paws and a long yellowish tail ending in a brown tuft. Its head, however, was that of a woman. She turned her long, almond-shaped eyes upon me as I approached. I raised my wand, hesitating. She was not crouching as if to spring, but pacing from side to side of the path, blocking my progress. Then she spoke, in a deep, hoarse voice.

"You are very near your goal. The quickest way is past me."

"So ... so will you move, please?" I said politely as I could, knowing what the answer was going to be.

"No," she said, continuing to pace. "Not unless you can answer 3 of my riddles. Answer on your first guess - I let you pass. Answer wrongly - I attack. Remain silent - I will let you walk away from me unscathed."

I weighed my chances. If the riddles were too hard, I could keep silent, get away from the   
sphinx unharmed, and try and find an alternative route to the center. But I was usually pretty good at riddles and this would be the fastest way to the sphinx. 

"Okay," I said. "Can I hear the riddles?"

The sphinx sat down upon her hind legs, in the very middle of the path, and recited all 3 riddles

"The person who makes me, doesn't need me  
The person who needs me, cannot see me  
The person who sees me, does not need me  
What am I?

What has one color but not one size  
Stuck on the ground yet easily flys  
Present in sun but never in rain  
Doing no harm and feeling no pain?

You're in a room with no windows or doors, only a mirror and a table. How do you get out.

I smiled, the last riddle I already knew the answer to as I had ran across it in a children's book of riddles that had been donated to the Orphanage and fell in love with the originality of the answer. This meant there were only two that I had to figure out.

I paced back in forth but quickly managed to come up with the other two answers and grinned widely at the sphinx.

The answer to the first is a coffin, the second, a shadow, and the third...I paused and then smiled widely as I remembered the little childhood chant I had created to memorize the answer.

You look in the mirror, see what you saw, take the saw, saw the table in half, two halves make a whole, and you jump through the hole! I stated happily.

The sphinx smiled more broadly. She got up, stretched her front legs, and then moved aside for me to pass.

"Thanks!" I said amazed at my own brilliance, as I dashed forward. As I was looking back I saw Harry run up and get caught by the Sphinx. I smirked and waved at him before taking off again.

I had to be close now, I had to be...my wand was telling me I was bang on course; as long as he didn't meet anything too horrible, I might have a chance...

I broke into a run. I had a choice of paths up ahead. "Point Me!" I whispered again to my wand, and it spun around and pointed me to the right-hand one. I dashed up this one and saw light ahead.

The Triwizard Cup was gleaming on a plinth a hundred yards away. Suddenly a dark figure hurtled out onto the path in front of me. 

Cedric was going to get there first. Cedric was sprinting as fast as he could toward the cup, and I knew I would never catch up, Cedric was much taller, had much longer legs -

Then I saw something immense over a hedge to my left, moving quickly along a path that intersected with my own; it was moving so fast Cedric was about to run into it, and Cedric, his eyes on the cup, had not seen it -

"Cedric!" I bellowed. "On your left!"

Cedric looked around just in time to hurl himself past the thing and avoid colliding with it, but in his haste, he tripped. I saw Cedric's wand fly out of his hand as a gigantic spider stepped into the path and began to bear down upon Cedric.

"Stupefy!" I yelled; the spell hit the spider's gigantic, hairy black body, but for all the good it did, I might as well have thrown a stone at it; the spider jerked, scuttled around, and ran at me instead.

"Stupefy! Impedimenta! Stupefy!"

But it was no use - the spider was either so large, or so magical, that the spells were doing no more than aggravating it. I tried doing another blast of water and ice like I had done with the skrewts but that didnt work. Neither did fireballs. I had one horrifying glimpse of eight shining black eyes and razor-sharp pincers before it was upon me. 

Then out of nowehere Harry was there by my side and the two of us were lifted into the air in its front legs; struggling madly, I tried to punch it; my arm connected with the pincers and next moment I was in excruciating pain. I could hear Cedric yelling "Stupefy!" too, but his spell had no more effect than mine had - Harry and I  shared a look and raised our wands as the spider opened its pincers once more (I used my noninjured arm) and shouted "Expelliarmus!"

It worked - the Disarming Spell made the spider drop us, but that meant that we fell twelve feet Harry onto his already injured leg and as for me, I landed on my injured arm, which crumpled beneath me. Without pausing to think, Harry and I aimed high at the spider's underbelly, and shouted "Stupefy!''just as Cedric yelled the same thing.

The three spells combined did what one alone had not: The spider keeled over sideways, flattening a nearby hedge, and strewing the path with a tangle of hairy legs.

"Katrina, Harry!" I heard Cedric shouting. "You all right? Did it fall on you?"

"No," Harry and I called back, panting. I looked down at my leg. It was bleeding freely and so was Harry's leg. I could see some sort of thick, gluey secretion from the spider's pincers on our torn robes. I tried to get up, but my legs were shaking badly and did not want to support my weight. Harry and I leaned against the hedge, gasping for breath, and looked around.

Cedric was standing feet from the Triwizard Cup, which was gleaming behind him. 

"Take it, then," Harry and I panted to Cedric. "Go on, take it. You're there."

But Cedric didn't move. He merely stood there, looking at Harry and I. Then he turned to stare at the cup. I saw the longing expression on his face in its golden light. Cedric looked around at Harry and I again, who were now holding onto the hedge to support ourselves. Cedric took a deep breath.

"One of you take it. You should win. That's twice you've saved my neck in here."

"That's not how it's supposed to work," Harry said. I felt angry; my arm was very painful, I was aching all over from trying to throw off the spider, and after all my efforts, Cedric had beaten me to it.

"The one who reaches the cup first gets the points. That's you. I'm telling you, neither of us are going to win any races at the moment," I shouted to him.

Cedric took a few paces nearer to the Stunned spider, away from the cup, shaking his head.

"No," he said.

"Stop being noble," I said irritably. "Just take it, then we can get out of here."

Cedric watched Harry and I steadying ourselves, holding tight to the hedge.

"You two told me about the dragons," Cedric said. "I would've gone down in the first task if you hadn't told me what was coming."

"We had help on that too," Harry snapped, trying to mop up his bloody leg with his robes. "You helped us with the egg - we're square."

"I had help on the egg in the first place," said Cedric.

"We're still square," said Harry, testing his leg gingerly; I watched as it shook violently as he put weight on it; I guessed that he had sprained his ankle when the spider had dropped us.

"You should've got more points on the second task," said Cedric mulishly. "You two stayed behind to get all the hostages. I should've done that."

"We were the only ones who were thick enough to take that song seriously!" said Harry bitterly. "Just take the cup!"

"No," said Cedric.

He stepped over the spider's tangled legs to join Harry and I, who stared at him. Cedric was serious. He was walking away from the sort of glory Hufflepuff House hadn't had in centuries.

"Go on," Cedric said. He looked as though this was costing him every ounce of resolution he had, but his face was set, his arms were folded, he seemed decided.

I looked from Cedric to the cup. For one shining moment, I saw myself emerging from the maze, holding it. I saw myself holding the Triwizard Cup aloft, heard the roar of the crowd, saw Harry's face shining with admiration, more clearly than I had ever seen it before...and then the picture faded, and I found myself staring at Cedric and Harry's shadowy, stubborn faces.

"Oh, for the love of Merlin, how bout we all take it!" I suggested with a roll of my eyes as the two boys stood with arms crossed stubbornly and glaring at the other. I just wanted out of the maze at this point and it seemed the fastest solution.

"What?" both boys said, turning to look at me.

"We'll take it at the same time. It's still a Hogwarts victory. We'll tie - well triple tie or whatever you wanna call it, for it."

Cedric and Harry stared at me. Then they both unfolded their arms.

"You - you sure?"

"Yeah," I said, and it was my turn to cross my arms stubbornly. "Yeah...we've helped each other out, haven't we? We both got here. Let's just take it all together."

For a moment, Cedric looked as though he couldn't believe his ears; then his face split in a grin.

"You're on," he said. "Come here."

Together ww grabbed Harry's arms (me using my one good one) below the shoulders and helped Harry limp toward the plinth where the cup stood. When we had reached it, we all held a hand out over one of the cup's gleaming handles.

"On three, right?" said Harry. "One - two - three -" He, Cedric, and I all grasped the cup.

Instantly, I felt a jerk somewhere behind my navel. My feet had left the ground. I could not unclench the hand holding the Triwizard Cup; it was pulling me onward in a howl of wind and swirling color, Cedric and Harry at my side.

********************************************

In-line Comments

\- Hehe hope you liked my additions! I'm sure I probably could have come up with something a lot more elaborate but Im too excited and anxious to finish this book so I can get started on book 5 so yeah...  
\- If anyone has heard the riddles I chose before let me know! The First one my sister told me and my dad when we were hiking when I was little and it has always just stuck with me, the second one I used to love to ask people during my "obsessed with riddles phase" and the last one i'm pretty sure everyone knows or maybe it was just something that only heavily circulated at my specific grade school lol.  
\- IMPORTANT POLL: Get your votes in while you can and comment whether you want Cedric to live or die and if so, how it should happen! If no one votes than I'll decide on my own but it's more fun if people vote! lol


	90. Flesh, Blood, Bone, & Skin

Katrina's POV

I felt my feet slam into the ground and I pitched forward; my hand let go of the Triwizard Cup at last. I raised my head.

"Where are we?" Harry and I said together. I had a horrible nagging sensation that something very bad was about to happen and my scar was starting to sting.

Cedric shook his head. He got up, pulled Harry and I to our feet, and we looked around.

We had left the Hogwarts grounds completely; we had obviously traveled miles - perhaps hundreds of miles - for even the mountains surrounding the castle were gone. We were standing instead in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to our right. 

A hill rose above us to out left. I could just make out the outline of a fine old house on the hillside. It looked oddly familiar, like something out of a dream (:p).

Cedric looked down at the Triwizard Cup and then up at Harry and I. "Did anyone tell you the cup was a Portkey?" he asked.

"Nope," we said. I was looking around the graveyard. It was completely silent and slightly eerie. "Is this supposed to be part of the task?"

"I dunno," said Cedric. He sounded slightly nervous. "Wands out, d'you reckon?" 

"Yeah," said Harry.

"Definitely!" I added, pulling mine out. I also formed a small fireball in my hands, just in case.

I kept looking around me. I had, yet again, the strange feeling that we were being watched.

"Someone's coming," I said suddenly.

Squinting tensely through the darkness, we watched the figure drawing nearer, walking steadily toward us between the graves. I couldn't make out a face, but from the way it was walking and holding its arms, I could tell that it was carrying something. Whoever it was, he was short, and wearing a hooded cloak pulled up over his head to obscure his face.   
And - several paces nearer, the gap between us closing all the time - I saw that the thing in the persons arms looked like a baby...or was it merely a bundle of robes?

Harry lowered his wand slightly and glanced sideways at Cedric, but I kept my wand raised high, not daring to let my guard. I kept my eyes trained as we watched the approaching figure draw nearer.

It stopped beside a towering marble headstone, only six feet from us. For a second. Harry, Cedric, the short figure, and I simply looked at one another.

And then, the sting in my scar increased tenfold. My scar exploded with pain. It was agony such as I had never felt in all my life; my wand slipped from my fingers as I put my hands over my collarbone; my knees buckled; I was on the ground and I could see nothing at all; my chest was about to split open.

From far away, above my head, I heard a high, cold voice say, "Kill the spare."

My head lifted up at those words and I saw the shadowy figure raise his wand and point it in Cedric's direction and my heart thudded.

A swishing noise and a second voice, which screeched the words to the night: "Avada Kedavra!"

No! I hauled myself back up onto my feet and launched myself at Cedric as a blast of green light blazed past my shoulder, just barely missing me. I hadn't aimed, however, and the back of Cedric's head slammed into the back of a tombstone and he was out like a light. I blinked in terror as I stood shakily, fearing that if the spell hadn't killed him, then I had definitely finished the job, but before I could check to see if he live, the pain in my scar reached such a pitch that I retched, and then it diminished; terrified of what I was about to see, I opened my stinging eyes.

I felt myself being pulled alongside Harry. I glanced at him in fear, his face dancing before my eyes as the pain brought stars to my eyes.

The short man in the cloak had put down his bundle, lit his wand, and was dragging Harry and I toward a marble headstone. I saw the name upon it flickering in the wandlight before we were forced around and slammed against it.

TOM RIDDLE

The cloaked man was now conjuring tight cords around Harry and I, tying us from neck to ankles to the headstone. I could hear shallow, fast breathing from the depths of the hood; I struggled, and the man hit me - hit me with a hand that had a finger missing. And I realized who was under the hood. It was Wormtail.

"You!" I gasped. I struggled even harder against my bonds as I desperately tried to tear the traitorous bastard who had ruined our lives to pieces. 

But Wormtail, who had finished conjuring the ropes, did not reply; he was busy checking the tightness of the cords, his fingers trembling uncontrollably, rumbling over the knots. Once sure that Harry and I were bound so tightly to the headstone that we couldn't move an inch, Wormtail drew a length of some black material from the inside of his cloak and stuffed it roughly into our mouths; then, without a word, he turned from us and hurried away. I couldn't make a sound, nor could I see where Wormtail had gone; I couldn't turn my head to see beyond the headstone; I could see only what was right in front of me.

Cedric's body was lying some twenty feet away. Some way beyond him, glinting in the starlight, lay the Triwizard Cup. Harry's and my wand were on the ground at Cedric's feet. The bundle of robes that I had thought was a baby was close by, at the foot of the grave. It seemed to be stirring fretfully. Harry and I watched it, and my scar seared with pain again...and I suddenly knew that I didn't want to see what was in those robes...I didn't want that bundle opened...

I could hear noises at my feet. I looked down and saw a gigantic snake slithering through the grass, circling the headstone where we were tied. Wormtail's fast, wheezy breathing was growing louder again. It sounded as though he was forcing something heavy across the ground. Then he came back within my range of vision, and I saw him pushing a stone cauldron to the foot of the grave. It was full of what seemed to be water - I could hear it slopping around - and it was larger than any cauldron I had ever used; a great stone belly large enough for a full-grown man to sit in.

The thing inside the bundle of robes on the ground was stirring more persistently, as though it was trying to free itself. Now Wormtail was busying himself at the bottom of the cauldron with a wand. Suddenly there were crackling flames beneath it. The large snake slithered away into the darkness.

The liquid in the cauldron seemed to heat very fast. The surface began not only to bubble, but to send out fiery sparks, as though it were on fire. Steam was thickening, blurring the outline of Wormtail tending the fire. The movements beneath the robes became more agitated. And I heard the high, cold voice again.

"Hurry!"

The whole surface of the water was alight with sparks now. It might have been encrusted with diamonds.

"It is ready. Master."

"Now..." said the cold voice.

Wormtail pulled open the robes on the ground, revealing what was inside them, and I let out a yell that was strangled in the wad of material blocking my mouth.

It was as though Wormtail had flipped over a stone and revealed something ugly, slimy, and blind - but worse, a hundred times worse. The thing Wormtail had been carrying had the shape of a crouched human child, except that I had never seen anything less like a child. It was hairless and scaly-looking, a dark, raw, reddish black. Its arms and legs were thin and feeble, and its face - no child alive ever had a face like that - flat and snakelike, with gleaming red eyes.

The thing seemed almost helpless; it raised its thin arms, put them around Wormtail's neck, and Wormtail lifted it. As he did so, his hood fell back, and I saw the look of revulsion on Wormtail's weak, pale face in the firelight as he carried the creature to the rim of the cauldron.   
For one moment, I saw the evil, flat face illuminated in the sparks dancing on the surface of the potion. And then Wormtail lowered the creature into the cauldron; there was a hiss, and it vanished below the surface; I heard its frail body hit the bottom with a soft thud.

Let it drown, I thought, my scar burning almost past endurance, please...let it drown...

Wormtail was speaking. His voice shook; he seemed frightened beyond his wits. He raised his wand, closed his eyes, and spoke to the night.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

The surface of the grave at my feet cracked. Horrified, I watched as a fine trickle of dust rose into the air at Wormtail's command and fell softly into the cauldron. The diamond surface of the water broke and hissed; it sent sparks in all directions and turned a vivid, poisonous-looking blue.

And now Wormtail was whimpering. He pulled a long, thin, shining silver dagger from inside his cloak. His voice broke into petrified sobs.

"Flesh - of the servant - w-willingly given - you will - revive - your master. "

He stretched his right hand out in front of him - the hand with the missing finger. He gripped the dagger very tightly in his left hand and swung it upward.

I realized what Wormtail was about to do a second before it happened - I squeezed my eyes shut as tightly as I could, but I could not block the scream that pierced the night, that went through me as though I had been stabbed with the dagger too. I heard something fall to the ground, heard Wormtail's anguished panting, then a sickening splash, as something was dropped into the cauldron. I couldn't stand to look...but the potion had turned a burning red; the light of it shone through my closed eyelids...

Wormtail was gasping and moaning with agony. Not until I felt Wormtail's anguished breath on my face did I realize that Wormtail was right in front of me.

"Skin of the daughter...unwillingly taken, you will empower your father."  

I trembled with fear as Wormtail approached me. I could do nothing to prevent it, I was tied too tightly....Squinting down, struggling hopelessly at the ropes binding me, I saw the shining silver dagger shaking in Wormtails remaining hand. He forced my head forward and I cried out against the wad in my mouth as I felt the edge of the dagger slicing the skin on the back of my neck and felt blood flow down my back. Wormtail, still panting with pain, shuffled back to the cauldron and tossed the chunk of skin into the depths. The scar on my collarbone was white hot and the world wavered as I struggled to stay conscious.

Wormtail made his way back over to Harry and I.

"B-blood of the enemy . . . forcibly taken .. . you will...resurrect your foe." 

I clenched my hand into a fist as I heard Harry's muffled grunt of pain and saw Wormtail carry a glass vial over to the cauldron and pour the contents inside. The liquid within turned, instantly, a blinding white. Wormtail, his job done, dropped to his knees beside the cauldron, then slumped sideways and lay on the ground, cradling the bleeding stump of his arm, gasping and sobbing.

The cauldron was simmering, sending its diamond sparks in all directions, so blindingly bright that it turned all else to velvety blackness. Nothing happened...Let it have drowned. I thought, let it have gone wrong...

 

And then, suddenly, the sparks emanating from the cauldron were extinguished. A surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron instead, obliterating everything in front of me, so that I couldn't see Wormtail or Cedric or anything but vapor hanging in the air...It's gone wrong, I thought...it's drowned...please...please let it be dead...

But then, through the mist in front of me, I saw, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising slowly from inside the cauldron.

"Robe me," said the high, cold voice from behind the steam, and Wormtail, sobbing and moaning, still cradling his mutilated arm, scrambled to pick up the black robes from the ground, got to his feet, reached up, and pulled them one-handed over his master's head.

The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring at me and I stared back into the face that had haunted my nightmares for three years. Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snakes with slits for nostrils...

Lord Voldemort had risen again.

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In-Line Comments

\- lol the foreshadowing about the cauldron belly being big enough for a man to sit in is real haha  
\- poor Kat, she's gonna have another scar soon  
\- lemme know what you thought of my additional line! Not sure how it turned out!  
\- voting still open to determine whether Cedric lives or dies! Only had two responses so far so if that it then not my fault if you dont like how it turns out! :) lol


	91. The Death Eaters

Katrina's POV

Voldemort looked away from me and began examining his own body. His hands were like large, pale spiders; his long white fingers caressed his own chest, his arms, his face; the red eyes, whose pupils were slits, like a cats, gleamed still more brightly through the darkness. He held up his hands and flexed the fingers, his expression rapt and exultant. He took not the slightest notice of Wormtail, who lay twitching and bleeding on the ground, nor of the great snake, which had slithered back into sight and was circling Harry and I again, hissing. 

In the back of my mind, I noticed how the snake's hissing seemed menacing when it circled Harry, but switched and seemed to whisper salaciously of power and control whenever it neared me. 

Voldemort slipped one of those unnaturally long-fingered hands into a deep pocket and drew out a wand. He caressed it gently too; and then he raised it, and pointed it at Wormtail, who was lifted off the ground and thrown against the headstone where Harry and I were tied; he fell to the foot of it and lay there, crumpled up and crying. Voldemort turned his scarlet eyes upon Harry and I, laughing a high, cold, mirthless laugh.

Wormtail's robes were shining with blood now; he had wrapped the stump of his arm in them.  
"My Lord..." he choked, "my Lord...you promised...you did promise..." 

"Hold out your arm," said Voldemort lazily.

"Oh Master...thank you, Master..."

He extended the bleeding stump, but Voldemort laughed again.  
"The other arm, Wormtail." 

"Master, please...please..."

Voldemort bent down and pulled out Wormtail's left arm; he forced the sleeve of Wormtail's robes up past his elbow, and I saw something upon the skin there, something like a vivid red tattoo - a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth - the image that had appeared in the sky at the Quidditch World Cup: the Dark Mark. Voldemort examined it carefully, ignoring Wormtail's uncontrollable weeping.

"It is back," he said softly, "they will all have noticed it...and now, we shall see...now we shall know..."

He pressed his long white forefinger to the brand on Wormtail's arm.

The scar on my collarbone seared with a sharp pain again, and Wormtail let out a fresh howl; Voldemort removed his fingers from Wormtail's mark, and I saw that it had turned jet black.

A look of cruel satisfaction on his face, Voldemort straightened up, threw back his head, and stared around at the dark graveyard.  
"How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?" he whispered, his gleaming red eyes fixed upon the stars. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?"

He began to pace up and down before Harry, Wormtail, and I eyes sweeping the graveyard all the while. After a minute or so, he looked down at Harry and I again, a cruel smile twisting his snakelike face.

"You stand, my child, upon the remains of my late father...your grandfather; I suppose," he hissed softly. "A Muggle and a fool...very like you and Potter's dear mothers. But they both had their uses, did they not? Your mothers died to defend you as children...and I killed my father, and see how useful he has proved himself, in death..."

The pain in my collarbone was so intense that I could barely focus on what Voldemort was saying to Harry and I, otherwise I would have been even more confused than I already was. He seemed to be implying that we were related but that was absurd. Sirius was my father. This was just ludicrous ramblings of a man crazed with dark power and I was doing my best to not black out from the pain I was feeling.

Voldemort laughed again. Up and down he paced, looking all around him as he walked, and the snake continued to circle in the grass.

"You see that house upon the hillside, child? My father lived there. My mother; your grandmother, a witch who lived here in this village, fell in love with him. But he abandoned her when she told him what she was...He didn't like magic, my father...

"He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born. Potter, and she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage...but I vowed to find him...I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name...Tom Riddle..." 

Still he paced, his red eyes darting from grave to grave.

"Listen to me, reliving family history..." he said quietly, "why, I am growing quite sentimental...But look, Harry! My true family returns...your new family awaits you, my child!"

The air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. Between graves, behind the yew tree, in every shadowy space, wizards were Apparating. All of them were hooded and masked. And one by one they moved forward...slowly, cautiously, as though they could hardly believe their eyes Voldemort stood in silence, waiting for them. Then one of the Death Eaters fell to his knees, crawled toward Voldemort and kissed the hem of his black robes.

"Master...Master " he murmured.

The Death Eaters behind him did the same; each of them approaching Voldemort on his knees and kissing his robes, before backing away and standing up, forming a silent circle, which enclosed Tom Riddle's grave, Harry, Voldemort, the sobbing and twitching heap that was Wormtail, and I. Yet they left gaps in the circle, as though waiting for more people.   
Voldemort, however, did not seem to expect more. He looked around at the hooded faces, and though there was no wind, rustling seemed to run around the circle, as though it had shivered.

"Welcome, Death Eaters," said Voldemort quietly. "Thirteen years...thirteen years since last we met. Yet you answer my call as though it were yesterday, we are still united under the Dark Mark, then! Or are we?"

He put back his terrible face and sniffed, his slit-like nostrils widening. "I smell guilt," he said. "There is a stench of guilt upon the air.

A second shiver ran around the circle, as though each member of it longed, but did not dare to step back from him.

"I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact - such prompt appearances! and I ask myself...why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?"

No one spoke. No one moved except Wormtail, who was upon the ground, still sobbing over his bleeding arm.

"And I answer myself," whispered Voldemort, "they must have believed me broken, they thought I was gone. They slipped back among my enemies, and they pleaded innocence, and ignorance, and bewitchment...

"And then I ask myself, but how could they have believed I would not rise again? They, who knew the steps I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death? They, who had seen proofs of the immensity of my power in the times when I was mightier than any wizard living?

"And I answer myself, perhaps they believed a still greater power could exist, one that could vanquish even Lord Voldemort...perhaps they now pay allegiance to another...perhaps that champion of commoners, of Mudbloods and Muggles, Albus Dumbledore?"

At the mention of my grandfather's name, the members of the circle stirred, and some muttered and shook their heads. Voldemort ignored them.

"It is a disappointment to me...I confess myself disappointed..."

One of the men suddenly flung himself forward, breaking the circle. Trembling from head to foot, he collapsed at Voldemort's feet.

"Master!" he shrieked, "Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!" Voldemort began to laugh. He raised his wand.

"Crucio!"

The Death Eater on the ground writhed and shrieked; I was sure the sound must carry to the houses around...Let the police come, I thought desperately...anyone...anything...

Voldemort raised his wand. The tortured Death Eater lay flat upon the ground, gasping.

"Get up, Avery," said Voldemort softly. "Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years...I want thirteen years' repayment before I forgive you. Wormtail here has paid some of his debt already, have you not, Wormtail?"

He looked down at Wormtail, who continued to sob.

"You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Master," moaned Wormtail, "please. Master...please..."

"Yet you helped return me to my body," said Voldemort coolly, watching Wormtail sob on the ground. "Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me...and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers..."

Voldemort raised his wand again and whirled it through the air. A streak of what looked like molten silver hung shining in the wand's wake. Momentarily shapeless, it writhed and then formed itself into a gleaming replica of a human hand, bright as moonlight, which soared downward and fixed itself upon Wormtails bleeding wrist.

Wormtail's sobbing stopped abruptly. His breathing harsh and ragged, he raised his head and stared in disbelief at the silver hand, now attached seamlessly to his arm, as though he were wearing a dazzling glove. He flexed the shining fingers, then, trembling, picked up a small twig on the ground and crushed it into powder.

"My Lord," he whispered. "Master...it is beautiful...thank you...thank you..." He scrambled forward on his knees and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes. 

"May your loyalty never waver again, Wormtail," said Voldemort.

"No, my Lord...never, my Lord..."

Wormtail stood up and took his place in the circle, staring at his powerful new hand, his face still shining with tears. Voldemort now approached the man on Wormtail's right.

"Lucius, my slippery friend," he whispered, halting before him. "I am told that you have not renounced the old ways, though to the world you present a respectable face. You are still ready to take the lead in a spot of Muggle-torture, I believe? Yet you never tried to find me, Lucius...Your exploits at the Quidditch World Cup were fun, I daresay...but might not your energies have been better directed toward finding and aiding your master?"

"My Lord, I was constantly on the alert," came Lucius Malfoy's voice swiftly from beneath the hood. "Had there been any sign from you, any whisper of your whereabouts, I would have been at your side immediately, nothing could have prevented me -"

"And yet you ran from my Mark, when a faithful Death Eater sent it into the sky last summer?" said Voldemort lazily, and Mr. Malfoy stopped talking abruptly. "Yes, I know all about that, Lucius...You have disappointed me...and I expect more faithful service in the future."

"Of course, my Lord, of course...You are merciful, thank you..."

Voldemort moved on, and stopped, staring at the space - large enough for two people - that separated Malfoy and the next man.

"The Lestranges should stand here," said Voldemort quietly. "But they are entombed in Azkaban. They were faithful. They went to Azkaban rather than renounce me...When Azkaban is broken open, the Lestranges will be honored beyond their dreams. The dementors will join us...they are our natural allies...we will recall the banished giants...I shall have all my devoted servants returned to me, and an army of creatures whom all fear..."

He walked on. Some of the Death Eaters he passed in silence, but he paused before others and spoke to them.

"Macnair...destroying dangerous beasts for the Ministry of Magic now, Wormtail tells me? You shall have better victims than that soon, Macnair. Lord Voldemort will provide..."

"Thank you, Master...thank you," murmured Macnair.

"And here" - Voldemort moved on to the two largest hooded figures - "we have Crabbe...you will do better this time, will you not, Crabbe? And you, Goyle?"

They bowed clumsily, muttering dully.

"Yes, Master..."

"We will, Master..."

"The same goes for you, Nott," said Voldemort quietly as he walked past a stooped figure in Mr. Goyles shadow.

"My Lord, I prostrate myself before you, I am your most faithful -" 

"That will do," said Voldemort.

He had reached the largest gap of all, and he stood surveying it with his blank, red eyes, as though he could see people standing there.

"And here we have six missing Death Eaters...three dead in my service. One, too cowardly to return...he will pay. One, who I believe has left me forever...he will be killed, of course...and one, who remains my most faithful servant, and who has already reentered my service."

The Death Eaters stirred, and Harry saw their eyes dart sideways at one another through their masks.

"He is at Hogwarts, that faithful servant, and it was through his efforts that our young friends arrived here tonight...

"Yes," said Voldemort, a grin curling his lipless mouth as the eyes of the circle flashed in our direction. "My child and Harry Potter have kindly joined us for my rebirthing party. One might go so far as to call them my guests of honor."

There was a silence. Then the Death Eater to the right of Wormtail stepped forward, and Lucius Malfoy's voice spoke from under the mask.

"Master, we crave to know...we beg you to tell us...how you have achieved this...this miracle...how you managed to return to us..."

"Ah, what a story it is, Lucius," said Voldemort. "And it begins - and ends - with my young friends here."

He walked lazily over to stand next to Harry and I, so that the eyes of the whole circle were upon the three of us. The snake continued to circle.

"You know, of course, that they have called this boy and girl my downfall?" Voldemort said softly, his red eyes upon Harry and I, whose scars began to burn so fiercely that I almost screamed in agony. "You all know that on the night I lost my powers and my body, I tried to kill them. Their mothers died in the attempt to save them - and unwittingly provided them with a protection I admit I had not foreseen...I could not touch them."

Voldemort raised two of his long white fingers and put it very close to our cheeks.

"Their mothers left upon them the traces other sacrifice...This is old magic, I should have remembered it, I was foolish to overlook it...but no matter. I can touch them now."

I felt the cold tip of the long white finger touch me, and thought my head would burst with the pain. Voldemort laughed softly in my ear, then took the finger away and continued addressing the Death Eaters.

"I miscalculated, my friends, I admit it. My curse was deflected by the women's foolish sacrifice, and it rebounded upon myself. Aaah...pain beyond pain, my friends; nothing could have prepared me for it. I was ripped from my body, I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost...but still, I was alive. What I was, even I do not know...I, who have gone further than anybody along the path that leads to immortality. You know my goal - to conquer death. And now, I was tested, and it appeared that one or more of my experiments had worked...for I had not been killed, though the curse should have done it. Nevertheless, I was as powerless as the weakest creature alive, and without the means to help myself...for I had no body, and every spell that might have helped me required the use of a wand...

"I remember only forcing myself, sleeplessly, endlessly, second by second, to exist...I settled in a faraway place, in a forest, and I waited...Surely, one of my faithful Death Eaters would try and find me...one of them would come and perform the magic I could not, to restore me to a body..., but I waited in vain..."

The shiver ran once more around the circle of listening Death Eaters. Voldemort let the silence spiral horribly before continuing.

"Only one power remained to me. I could possess the bodies of others. But I dared not go where other humans were plentiful, for I knew that the Aurors were still abroad and searching for me.

I sometimes inhabited animals - snakes, of course, being my preference - but I was little better off inside them than as pure spirit, for their bodies were ill adapted to perform magic...and my possession of them shortened their lives; none of them lasted long...

"Then...four years ago...the means for my return seemed assured. A wizard - young, foolish, and gullible - wandered across my path in the forest I had made my home. Oh, he seemed the very chance I had been dreaming of...for he was a teacher at Dumbledore's school...he was easy to bend to my will...he brought me back to this country, and after a while, I took possession of his body, to supervise him closely as he carried out my orders. But my plan failed. I did not manage to steal the Sorcerer's Stone. I was not to be assured immortal life. I was thwarted...thwarted, once again, by Harry Potter...and my own flesh and blood."

Silence once more; nothing was stirring, not even the leaves on the yew tree. The Death Eaters were quite motionless, the glittering eyes in their masks fixed upon Voldemort, and upon Harry and I.

"The servant died when I left his body, and I was left as weak as ever I had been," Voldemort continued. "I returned to my hiding place far away, and I will not pretend to you that I didn't then fear that I might never regain my powers...Yes, that was perhaps my darkest hour...I could not hope that I would be sent another wizard to possess...and I had given up hope, now, that any of my Death Eaters cared what had become of me..."

One or two of the masked wizards in the circle moved uncomfortably, but Voldemort took no notice.

"And then, not even a year ago, when I had almost abandoned hope, it happened at last...a servant returned to me. Wormtail here, who had faked his own death to escape justice, was driven out of hiding by those he had once counted friends, and decided to return to his master. He sought me in the country where it had long been rumored I was hiding...helped, of course, by the rats he met along the way.

"Wormtail has a curious affinity with rats, do you not, Wormtail? His filthy little friends told him there was a place, deep in an Albanian forest, that they avoided, where small animals like themselves had met their deaths by a dark shadow that possessed them...

"But his journey back to me was not smooth, was it, Wormtail? For, hungry one night, on the edge of the very forest where he had hoped to find me, he foolishly stopped at an inn for some food...and who should he meet there, but one Bertha Jorkins, a witch from the Ministry of Magic.

"Now see the way that fate favors Lord Voldemort. This might have been the end of Wormtail, and of my last hope for regeneration. But Wormtail - displaying a presence of mind I would never have expected from him - convinced Bertha Jorkins to accompany him on a nighttime stroll. He overpowered her...he brought her to me. And Bertha Jorkins, who might have ruined all, proved instead to be a gift beyond my wildest dreams...for - with a little persuasion - she became a veritable mine of information.

"She told me that the Triwizard Tournament would be played at Hogwarts this year. She told me that she knew of a faithful Death Eater who would be only too willing to help me, if I could only contact him. She told me many things...but the means I used to break the Memory Charm upon her were powerful, and when I had extracted all useful information from her, her mind and body were both damaged beyond repair. She had now served her purpose. I could not possess her. I disposed of her."

Voldemort smiled his terrible smile, his red eyes blank and pitiless.

"Wormtail's body, of course, was ill adapted for possession, as all assumed him dead, and would attract far too much attention if noticed. However, he was the able-bodied servant I needed, and, poor wizard though he is, Wormtail was able to follow the instructions I gave him, which would return me to a rudimentary, weak body of my own, a body I would be able to inhabit while awaiting the essential ingredients for true rebirth...a spell or two of my own invention...a little help from my dear Nagini," Voldemorts red eyes fell upon the continually circling snake, "a potion concocted from unicorn blood, and the snake venom Nagini provided...I was soon returned to an almost human form, and strong enough to travel.

"There was no hope of stealing the Sorcerer's Stone anymore, for I knew that Dumbledore would have seen to it that it was destroyed. But I was willing to embrace mortal life again, before chasing immortality. I set my sights lower...I would settle for my old body back again, and my old strength.

"I knew that to achieve this - it is an old piece of Dark Magic, the potion that revived me tonight - I would need four powerful ingredients. Well, one of them was already at hand, was it not, Wormtail? Flesh given by a servant...

"My father's bone, naturally, meant that we would have to come here, where he was buried. But the skin of a child and the blood of a foe...Wormtail would have had me use any wizard, would you not, Wormtail? Any wizard who had hated me...as so many of them still do. But I knew the one I must use, if I was to rise again, more powerful than I had been when I had fallen. I wanted Harry Potters blood. I wanted the blood of the one who had stripped me of power thirteen years ago...for the lingering protection his mother once gave him would then reside in my veins too..

"But how to get at my daughter and Harry Potter? For they have been better protected than I think even they know, protected in ways devised by Dumbledore long ago, when it fell to him to arrange their future. As for Potter, Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic, to ensure the boy's protection as long as he is in his relations' care. Not even I can touch him there...and he chose to raise the girl himsef as she was his granddaughter. Then, of course, there was the Quidditch World Cup...I thought their protection might be weaker there, away from their relations and Dumbledore, but I was not yet strong enough to attempt kidnap in the midst of a horde of Ministry wizards. And then, they would return to Hogwarts, where they would be under the crooked nose of that Muggle-loving fool from morning until night. So how could I take him?

"Why...by using Bertha Jorkins's information, of course. Use my one faithful Death Eater, stationed at Hogwarts, to ensure that their names were entered into the Goblet of Fire.   
Use my Death Eater to ensure that the boy and girl won the tournament - that they touched the Triwizard Cup first - the cup which my Death Eater had turned into a Portkey, which would bring them here, beyond the reach of Dumbledore's help and protection, and into my waiting arms. And here they are the boy and girl you all believed had been my downfall..."  
Voldemort moved slowly forward and turned to face Harry and I. He raised his wand. 

"Crucio!"

It was pain beyond anything I had ever experienced; my very bones were on fire; my chest was surely splitting along my scar; my eyes were rolling madly in my head; I wanted it to end...to black out...to die...

And then it was gone. I was hanging limply in the ropes binding me to the headstone of Voldemort's father, looking up into those bright red eyes through a kind of mist. The night was ringing with the sound of the Death Eaters' laughter.

"You see, I think, how foolish it was to suppose that this boy and girl could ever have been stronger than me," said Voldemort. "But I want there to be no mistake in anybody's mind. These two escaped me by a lucky chance. And I am now going to prove my power by killing the boy, here and now, in front of you all, when there is no Dumbledore to help him, and no mother to die for him. I will give him his chance. He will be allowed to fight, and you will be left in no doubt which of us is the stronger. Just a little longer, Nagini," he whispered, and the snake glided away through the grass to where the Death Eaters stood watching.

"As for my child, she shall be given the chance to join us in fellowship where she will rule by my side, if she so chooses." Voldemort looked down at me with what I could only suppose was his attempt at a smile. Then his eyes and face went back to stony. 

"If not, then she shall join the boy in his fate." 

"Now untie them, Wormtail, and give them back their wands."

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In-Line Comments

\- Poor Kat, she thinks Voldy is just being his normal delusional self; tho i'm still deciding whether she'll figure it out by the end of this book or whether it will wait till later? If anyone has a preference let me know! As of rn, I'm thinking it'll be when Sirius joins them at the castle and she realizes they dont look at all alike but not sure yet so let me know if you like or dont like that idea!


	92. Priori Incantatem

Katrina's POV

Wormtail approached Harry and I, who scrambled to find our feet, to support our weight before the ropes were untied. Wormtail raised his new silver hand, pulled out the wad of material gagging our mouths, and then, with one swipe, cut through the bonds tying Harry and I to the gravestone.

There was a split second, perhaps, when I might have considered running for it, but I couldn't leave Harry and I saw that his injured leg shook under him as he stood on the overgrown grave, as the Death Eaters closed ranks, forming a tighter circle around us and Voldemort, so that the gaps where the missing Death Eaters should have stood were filled, and I the thought of dashing away fled.

Wormtail walked out of the circle to the place where Cedric's body lay and returned with our wands, which he thrust roughly into our hands without looking at us. Then Wormtail resumed his place in the circle of watching Death Eaters.

"Will you join us, my child? You would be honored above all and would rule by my side once we take the world as ours! You are powerful, put that power to good use!"

I stared at him coldly. He had murdered my mum and tried to kill Harry and I several times now, he was straight up crazy if he thought I would join him, and thats exactly what I said.

"Stop calling me that! And why the bloody hell should I join you after everything you've done to me and Harry!"

"Why should I stop calling you that, it's what you are, my child. Join your father in victory or die with your pathetic friend." 

Why does he keep saying that! I was the daughter of Eliana Dumbledore and Sirius Black, not this undead sorry attempt at a human being!

"You are delusional! I have a father and he is most definitely not you! I also had a mother before you brutally murdered her! I will not ruin her sacrifice by joining the man who took her away from me!" I told him as I grabbed Harry's arm for assurance and to help him stay upright. My poor friend looked like he was about to collapse.

"Very well, waste your potential by joining your precious friend in death. You have been taught how to duel?" said Voldemort softly, his red eyes glinting through the darkness with anger at my words.

At these words I remembered, as though from a former life, the dueling club at Hogwarts Harry and I had attended briefly two years ago...All we had learned there was the Disarming Spell, "Expelliarmus"...and what use would it be to deprive Voldemort of his wand, even if we could, when we were surrounded by Death Eaters, outnumbered by at least thirty to two? I had never learned anything that could possibly fit us for this. I knew we were facing the thing against which Moody had always warned...the unblockable Avada Kedavra curse - and Voldemort was right - our mothers were not here to die for us this time...we were quite unprotected...

"We bow to each other. My child. Harry," said Voldemort, bending a little, but keeping his snakelike face upturned to Harry and I. "Come, the niceties must be observed...Dumbledore would like you to show manners...Bow to death, my child, Harry..."

The Death Eaters were laughing again. Voldemorts lipless mouth was smiling. Harry and I did not bow. I was not going to let Voldemort play with me before killing me...I was not going to give him that satisfaction...

"I said, bow," Voldemort said, raising his wand - and I felt my spine curve as though a huge, invisible hand were bending me ruthlessly forward, and the Death Eaters laughed harder than ever.

"Very good," said Voldemort softly, and as he raised his wand the pressure bearing down upon me lifted too. "And now you face me, straight-backed and proud, the way your parents died...

"And now - we duel."

Voldemort raised his wand, and before I could do anything to defend myself, before I could even move, I had been hit again by the Cruciatus Curse. The pain was so intense, so all-consuming, that I no longer knew where I was...White-hot knives were piercing every inch of my skin, my chest was surely going to burst with pain, I was screaming more loudly than I'd ever screamed in my life -

And then it stopped. I rolled over and scrambled to my feet and helped Harry to his; I was shaking as uncontrollably as Wormtail had done when his hand had been cut off; I staggered sideways into the wall of watching Death Eaters, and they pushed me away, back toward Voldemort.

"A little break," said Voldemort, the slit-like nostrils dilating with excitement, "a little pause...That hurt, didn't it? You don't want me to do that again, do you?"

I didn't answer. I was going to die like my mum, those pitiless red eyes were telling me so...Harry and I were going to die, and there was nothing we could do about it...but we weren't going to play along. I glanced at Harry. We weren't going to obey Voldemort...we weren't going to beg...

"I asked you whether you want me to do that again," said Voldemort softly. "Answer me! Imperio"

And I felt, for the fifth time in my life, the sensation that my mind had been wiped of all thought...Ah, it was bliss, not to think, it was as though I were floating, dreaming...just answer no...say no...just answer no...

I will not, said a stronger voice, in the back of my head, I won't answer...Just answer no...

I won't do it, I won't say it...

Just answer no...

"I WON'T!"

And these words burst from Harry's and my mouth; they echoed through the graveyard, and the dream state was lifted as suddenly as though cold water had been thrown over me - back rushed the aches that the Cruciatus Curse had left all over my body - back rushed the realization of where I was, and what we were facing...

"You won't?" said Voldemort quietly, and the Death Eaters were not laughing now. "You won't say no? Harry, my child, obedience is a virtue I need to teach you before you die...Perhaps another little dose of pain?"

Voldemort raised his wand, but this time Harry and I were ready; with the reflexes born of our Quidditch training, we flung ourselves sideways onto the ground; we rolled behind the marble headstone of Voldemort's father, and I heard it crack as the curse missed us.

"We are not playing hide-and-seek, my child," said Voldemort's soft, cold voice, drawing nearer, as the Death Eaters laughed. "You cannot hide from me. Does this mean you are tired of our duel? Does this mean that you would prefer me to finish it now? Come out, my child...come out and play, then...it will be quick...it might even be painless...I would not know...I have never died..."

Harry and I crouched behind the headstone and knew the end had come. There was no hope...no help to be had. For the heck of it, I hurled a fireball over the tombstone, but as I heard Voldemort draw nearer still, I knew one thing only, and it was beyond fear or reason: I was not going to die crouching here like a child playing hide-and-seek (specially not with a man who was delusional enough to think he could take Sirius's spot as my father); I was not going to die kneeling at Voldemort's feet...I was going to die upright like my mother, and I was going to die trying to defend Harry, even if no defense was possible...I looked over at Harry.

"I guess we won't be going out on that date you won't have the chance to ask me on..." I said glumly as we prepared ourselves.

Before Voldemort could stick his snakelike face around the headstone. We stood up...I gripped my wand tightly in my hand, thrust it out in front of me, and threw myself around the headstone, facing Voldemort.

Voldemort was ready. As Harry and I shouted, "Expelliarmus!" Voldemort cried, "Avada Kedavra!"

A jet of green light issued from Voldemorts wand just as jets of red light blasted from mine and Harry's wands - they met in midair - and suddenly my wand was vibrating as though an electric charge were surging through it; my hand seized up around it; I couldn't have released it if I'd wanted to - and a narrow beam of light connected the two wands, neither red nor green, but bright, deep gold. I, following the beam with my astonished gaze, saw that Voldemort's long white fingers too were gripping a wand that was shaking and vibrating along with Harry's.

And then - nothing could have prepared Harry or I for this - I felt my feet lift from the ground. Voldemort, Harry, and I were both being raised into the air, our wands still connected by the threads of shimmering golden light. We glided away from the tombstone of Voldemort's father and then came to rest on a patch of ground that was clear and free of graves...The Death Eaters were shouting; they were asking Voldemort for instructions; they were closing in, reforming the circle around the three of us, the snake slithering at their heels, some of them drawing their wands -

The golden thread connecting Harry and Voldemort and I splintered; though the wands remained connected, a thousand more beams arced high over our heads, crisscrossing all around us, until we were enclosed in a golden, dome-shaped web, a cage of light, beyond which the Death Eaters circled like jackals, their cries strangely muffled now...

"Do nothing!" Voldemort shrieked to the Death Eaters, and I saw his red eyes wide with astonishment at what was happening, saw him fighting to break the thread of light still connecting his wand with ours; I held onto my wand more tightly, with both hands, and the golden thread remained unbroken. "Do nothing unless I command you!" Voldemort shouted to the Death Eaters.

And then an unearthly and beautiful sound filled the air...It was coming from every thread of the light-spun web vibrating around Harry, Voldemort, and I. It was a sound I recognized, though I had heard it only once before in my life: phoenix song.

It was the sound of hope to me...the most beautiful and welcome thing I had ever heard in my life...I felt as though the song were inside me instead of just around me...It was the sound I connected with my grandfather, and it was almost as though a friend were speaking in my ear...

Don't break the connection.

I know. I told the music, I know I mustn't..but no sooner had I thought it, than the thing became much harder to do. My wand began to vibrate more powerfully than ever...and now the beam between the three of us changed too...it was as though large beads of light were sliding up and down the thread connecting the wands - I felt my wand give a shudder under my hand as the light beads began to slide slowly and steadily my way...The direction of the beams movement was now toward me, from Voldemort, and I felt my wand shudder angrily...

As the closest bead of light moved nearer to my wand tip, the wood beneath my fingers grew so hot if it wasn't for the fact that I regularly created fireballs now, I would have feared it would burst into flame. The closer that bead moved, the harder my wand vibrated; I was sure my wand would not survive contact with it; it felt as though it was about to shatter under my fingers -

I concentrated every last particle of my mind upon forcing the bead back toward Voldemort, my ears full of phoenix song, my eyes furious, fixed...slowly, very slowly, the beads quivered to a halt, and then, just as slowly, they began to move the other way...and it was Voldemort's wand that was vibrating extra-hard now...Voldemort who looked astonished, and almost fearful....

One of the beads of light was quivering, inches from the tip of Voldemorts wand. I didn't understand why I was doing it, didn't know what it might achieve...but I now concentrated as I had never done in my life; even harder than I had when teaching myself to control water for the second task; on forcing that bead of light right back into Voldemort s wand...and slowly...very slowly...it moved along the golden thread...it trembled for a moment...and then it connected...

At once, Voldemorts wand began to emit echoing screams of pain...then - Voldemort's red eyes widened with shock - a dense, smoky hand flew out of the tip of it and vanished...the ghost of the hand he had made Wormtail...more screams of pain from the wand...and then something else emerged from its tip...the dense shadow of a second head, quickly followed by arms and torso...an old man I had seen only in a dream was now pushing himself out of the end of the wand...and his ghost, or his shadow, or whatever it was, surveyed Harry, Voldemort, and I and the golden web, and the connected wands, with mild surprise, leaning on his walking stick...

"He was a real wizard, then?" the old man said, his eyes on Voldemort. "Killed me, that one did...You two fight him..."

But already, yet another head was emerging...and this head, gray as a smoky statue, was a woman's...I, both arms shaking now as I fought to keep my wand still, saw her drop to the ground and straighten up like the old man, staring...

The shadow of Bertha Jorkins surveyed the battle before her with wide eyes.

"Don't let go, now!" she cried, and her voice echoed like the old man's as though from very far away. "Don't let him get you, Harry - Katrina - don't let go!"

She and the other shadowy figure began to pace around the inner walls of the golden web, while the Death Eaters flitted around the outside of it...and Voldemort's dead victims whispered as they circled the duelers, whispered words of encouragement to Harry, and I and hissed words we couldn't hear to Voldemort.

And now another head was emerging from the tip of Voldemorts wand...and I knew when I saw it that it was Harry's father. I recognized him from the wedding picture Harry had showed me last year.

The smoky shadow of a tall man with untidy hair and glasses fell to the ground as Bertha had done, straightened up, and looked at Harry, speaking to him, and as my arms shook, madly now, I knew that mine and Harry's mother would be arriving soon and trembled at the thought; not sure if I was scared or hopeful.

Harry's mother was first, looking as beautiful as she had in the picture I had looked at. My heart ached for my best friend as I tried to imagine what he was feeling right now, but I didn't have to imagine for much longer as I stood waiting nervously.

And she came...first her head, then her body...a young woman with long hair, the smoky, shadowy form of Eliana Dumbledore blossomed from the end of Voldemort's wand, fell to the ground, and straightened like the others. She walked close to me, looking down at me, and she spoke in the same distant, echoing voice as the others, but quietly, so that Voldemort, his face now livid with fear as his victims prowled around him, could not hear...

"When the connection is broken, we will linger for only moments...but we will give you time...you must get to the Portkey, it will return you and Harry to Hogwarts...do you understand, Katrina?"

"Yes," I gasped, fighting now to keep a hold on my wand, which was slipping and sliding beneath my fingers.

"I love you, my darling. You are everything I dreamed of and more and I'm so proud of the young women you are becoming. Stay strong."

Tears began to stream down my face at her words as I wished she hadn't been taken away from me and that I could have had a life with her and my father.

"I will," I said, my face screwed up with the effort of holding the wand. 

"Do it now," whispered my mother's voice, "be ready to run...do it now..."

"NOW!" Harry and I yelled; I didn't think I could have held on for another moment anyway - I pulled my wand upward with an almighty wrench, and the golden thread broke; the cage of light vanished, the phoenix song died - but the shadowy figures of Voldemort's victims did not disappear - they were closing in upon Voldemort, shielding Harry and I from his gaze -

And we ran as we had never run in our lives, knocking two stunned Death Eaters aside as we passed; we zigzagged behind headstones, feeling their curses following us, hearing them hit the headstones - I was dodging curses and graves, pelting toward Cedric's body, no longer aware of the pain in my arm and neck, my whole being concentrated on what we had to do -

"Stun them!" I heard Voldemort scream.

Ten feet from Cedric, I dived behind a marble angel to avoid the jets of red light and saw the tip of its wing shatter as the spells hit it.   
Gripping my wand more tightly, I dashed out from behind the angel -

"Impedimenta!" Harry bellowed, pointing his wand wildly over his shoulder at the Death Eaters running at us. I, however, didn't bother with spells and focused on throwing large chunks or earth from the graves at the Death Eaters, along with my fire and ice balls.

From a muffled yell, I thought I had stopped at least one of them, but there was no time to stop and look; I jumped over the cup and dived as I heard more wand blasts behind me; more jets of light flew over my head as I fell, stretching out my hand to grab Cedric's and Harry's arms.

"Stand aside! I will kill them! They are mine!" shrieked Voldemort. My hand had closed on Cedric's wrist; and Harry's shoulder; one tombstone stood between Voldemort and I, but Cedric was too heavy to carry, and the cup was out of reach -

Voldemort's red eyes flamed in the darkness. I saw his mouth curl into a smile, saw him raise his wand.

"Accio!" I heard Harry yelled, as he pointed his wand at the Triwizard Cup. It flew into the air and soared toward him. Harry caught it by the handle -

I heard Voldemort's scream of fury at the same moment that I felt the jerk behind my navel that meant the Portkey had worked - it was speeding me away in a whirl of wind and color, Cedric and Harry along with me...We were going back. 

********************************************

In-Line Comments

\- Aww, Kat gets to speak to her mother  
\- Let me know what you think of this latest chapter!  
\- Last chance to put your vote in on whether Cedric dies or not; spoiler alert I'm leaning towards alive, unless enough ppl want me to stay true to the original story!  
\- It's been commented that I don't have very much original parts (apparently adding up to less than 5k words) just wanted to get feedback on whether everyone else feels this way as well? If so, I would like to know so that I can fix that since I thought I was doing pretty good...


	93. Veritaserum

Katrina's POV

I felt myself slam flat into the ground; my face was pressed into grass; the smell of it filled my nostrils. I had closed my eyes while the Portkey transported me, and I kept them closed now.   
I did not move. All the breath seemed to have been knocked out of me; my head was swimming so badly I felt as though the ground beneath me were swaying like the deck of a ship. To hold myself steady, I tightened my hold on the two things I was still clutching: the smooth, cold handle of the Triwizard Cup and Cedric's body. I couldn't get the courage to check if he was alive or not, too scared of the answer. If he was dead, then it would have been entirely my fault, and I couldn't handle that thought right now.

I felt as though I would slide away into the blackness gathering at the edges of my brain if I let go of either of them. In the back of my mind, I felt Harry's tight grip around my waist, but for the first time, I wasn't comforted by this. Normally, Harry's presence calmed me down, but it didn't seem to be working this time around. Shock and exhaustion kept me on the ground, breathing in the smell of the grass, waiting...waiting for someone to do something...something to happen...and all the while, my scar burned dully on my collarbone...

A torrent of sound deafened and confused me; there were voices everywhere, footsteps, screams...I remained where I was, my face screwed up against the noise, as though it were a nightmare that would pass...

Then a pair of hands seized me roughly and turned me over. "Katrina! Katrina!"

I opened my eyes.

I was looking up at the starry sky, and my grandfather was crouched over me. The dark shadows of a crowd of people pressed in around us, pushing nearer; I felt the ground beneath my head reverberating with their footsteps.

We had come back to the edge of the maze. I could see the stands rising above me, the shapes of people moving in them, the stars above.

I let go of the cup, but I clutched Cedric to me even more tightly. I raised my free hand and seized my grandfather's wrist, while his face swam in and out of focus.

I wanted to tell him about Voldemort and that he was back and about the death eaters and their plans to recruit the giants and dementors but as I stared into my grandfather's worried blue eyes, I got side tracked. The world was going black.

"Mum, I saw my mum, she was so pretty..." I mumbled as I clenched my grandfather's wrist. The world was spinning and I could barely keep my eyes open. I vaguely heard Harry giving Dumbledore the news that Voldemort was back before I finally gave in and let the dark overwhelm me.

********************************************

I blearily came back to consciousness to find that was being carried in someone's arms. I heard a clunk with every other step of their foot and quickly realized it must be Mad-Eye Moody who was carrying me. I looked over as best I could, to see Harry stumbling alongside.

"What happened. Harry? Katrina?" Moody asked us when he saw that I was awake in his arms. I looked at Harry silently pleading with him to answer for the both of us. I just didn't have any energy left in me.

"Cup was a Portkey," said Harry as we crossed the entrance hall. "Took me, Cedric and Katrina to a graveyard...and Voldemort was there...Lord Voldemort..."

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Up the marble stairs...

"The Dark Lord was there? What happened then?"

"Tried to kill Cedric...Kat saved him...I think...we didn't get a chance to check."

"And then?"

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Along the corridor...

"Made a potion...got his body back..."

"The Dark Lord got his body back? He's returned?"

"And the Death Eaters came...and then we dueled..."

"You two dueled with the Dark Lord?"

"Got away...our wands...did something funny...we saw our parents...they came out of his wand..."

"In here...in here, and sit down...You both will be all right now...drink this..."

I was gently placed on one of the chairs and then I heard a key scrape in a lock and felt a cup being pushed into my hands. I barely noticed the blurred streak of red that zoomed through the door before it was locked. Nor did I feel the soft thud of Drake's body landing behind my neck. I winced though, as his scales rubbed up against the raw section that had been sliced off.

"What happened to you two! I've been worried sick! I couldn't sense your mind anywhere nearby!"

I didn't have the energy to recap it all in words so I just sighed heavily and opened up my mind so that Drake could see for himself what had happened as I stared at the cup in my hands.

"Drink it...you'll feel better...come on, now. Harry, come on, Katrina, I need to know exactly what happened..."

Moody helped tip the stuff down my throat; I coughed, a peppery taste burning my throat. It must have been Pepper-up Potion. Moody's office came into sharper focus, and so did Moody himself and Harry. Moody looked as white as Fudge had looked, and both eyes were fixed unblinkingly upon my face.

"Voldemort's back? You're sure he's back? How did he do it?"

"He took stuff from his father's grave, and from Wormtail, and me and Kat," said Harry looking at me, his green eyes flashing in anger as he looked at my neck. 

I clenched my teeth as my head started to clear; my scar wasn't hurting so badly; I could now see Moody's face distinctly, even though the office was dark. I could still hear screaming and shouting from the distant Quidditch field.

"What did the Dark Lord take from you?" said Moody.

"Blood," said Harry, raising his arm. 

"Skin," I said, half-turning in my seat and raising my hair up so he could see the nape of my neck. I could still feel a trickle of blood making its way slowly down my back, and shifted in my chair uncomfortably. 

Moody let out his breath in a long, low hiss.

"And the Death Eaters? They returned?"

"Yes," I said. "Loads of them..." I shivered, remembering the terrifying masks. I hadn't gotten a chance to see them at the Quidditch World Cup considering I had been unconscious at the time...

"How did he treat them?" Moody asked quietly. "Did he forgive them?"

But I looked at Harry in fear as I suddenly remembered. We should have told my grandfather, we should have said it straightaway -

"There's a Death Eater at Hogwarts! There's a Death Eater here - they put mine and Harry's names in the Goblet of Fire, they made sure we got through to the end -" I started to say.

I tried to get up, but Moody pushed me back down. "I know who the Death Eater is," he said quietly. I heard Drake hiss angrily from his perch on my shoulder and glanced at him only to find him glaring over at Moody, his scales a bright fiery red to match his temper. I glanced at him curiously, not knowing the reason behind my companions sudden anger towards Moody. 

"Karkaroff?" Harry and I said wildly. "Where is he? Have you got him? Is he locked up?"

"Karkaroff?" said Moody with an odd laugh. "Karkaroff fled tonight, when he felt the Dark Mark burn upon his arm. He betrayed too many faithful supporters of the Dark Lord to wish to meet them...but I doubt he will get far. The Dark Lord has ways of tracking his   
enemies." A sinking feeling filled the pit of my belly as I ran down a list of possibilities. I looked sideways at Drake again and suddenly realized what he had. 

"Karkaroff's gone? He ran away? But then - he didn't put our names in the goblet?" If it hadn't been Karkaroff that only left so many options. I glanced at Harry. I knew what he would be thinking, Snape, but I couldn't see my godfather doing anything like that. He might not like Harry, but he certainly wouldn't have done anything to put me in harms way. He was my godfather after all! That meant it had to be someone else, someone new, and there were only 3 new people I could think of; one had just been eliminated and one seemed unlikely.

"No," said Moody slowly. "No, he didn't. It was I who did that." My eyes widened as mine and Drake's suspicions were confirmed. Moody was the only person who would have been able to have accomplished the job, but I just couldn't understand why. From the look on Harry's face, I knew he didn't believe it. Why was it that he never believed the guilty party was indeed guilty at first? I mean, it would have been somewhat sweet if it wasn't for the fact that he blamed my godfather for everything instead. Additionally, it also meant that he never believed what I had to say until the truth was staring him right in the face...

"No, you didn't," Harry said. "You didn't do that...you can't have done..." If the situation hadn't been so serious, I would have rolled my eyes at Harry's ignorance. I mean, as one of my favorite muggle author's used to write: "Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth." Harry just refused to see it.

"I assure you I did," said Moody, and his magical eye swung around and fixed upon the door, and I knew he was making sure that there was no one outside it. At the same time, Moody drew out his wand and pointed it at Harry and I.

"He forgave them, then?" he said. "The Death Eaters who went free? The ones who escaped Azkaban?"

"What?" I said, distractedly. Drake's claws were digging so deeply into my shoulder, that I could feel more blood leaving my body. Seriously, if I didn't get out of here and to Madam Pomfrey soon, there would be none left in my body!

I was looking at the wand Moody was pointing at us. My mind racing over possible ways of escape, but I couldn't think of any.

"I asked you two," said Moody quietly, "whether he forgave the scum who never even went to look for him. Those treacherous cowards who wouldn't even brave Azkaban for him. The faithless, worthless bits of filth who were brave enough to cavort in masks at the Quidditch World Cup, but fled at the sight of the Dark Mark when I fired it into the sky."

"You fired...What are you talking about..."

"I told you. Harry...I told you. If there's one thing I hate more than any other, it's a Death Eater who walked free. They turned their backs on my master when he needed them most. I expected him to punish them. I expected him to torture them. Tell me he hurt them, Harry..." Moody's face was suddenly lit with an insane smile. "Tell me he told them that I, I alone remained faithful...prepared to risk everything to deliver to him the one thing he wanted above all...you"

I stared at Moody as I came to the epiphany that it must have been him who had dragged me out of my bed that night and bashed me over the head...I just couldn't understand why. From what my grandfather had told me about Alastor Moody, he had always despised Death Eaters, so why was he suddenly talking about them as if he was one himself? 

"You didn't...it - it can't be you..." said Harry, still refusing to believe the truth. I flashed back to our previous years, in particular, our first, when he had said almost the same thing to Professor Quirrell.

"Who put your name in the Goblet of Fire, under the name of a different school? I did. Who frightened off every person I thought might try to hurt you or prevent you from winning the tournament? I did. Who nudged Hagrid into showing you the dragons? I did. Who helped you see the only way you could beat the dragon? I did"

Moody's magical eye had now left the door. It was fixed upon Harry and I. His lopsided mouth leered more widely than ever.

"It hasn't been easy, you two, guiding you through these tasks without arousing suspicion. I have had to use every ounce of cunning I possess, so that my hand would not be detectable in your success. Dumbledore would have been very suspicious if you had managed everything too easily. As long as you got into that maze, preferably with a decent head start - then, I knew, I would have a chance of getting rid of the other champions and leaving your ways clear. But I also had to contend with your stupidity. The second task...that was when I was most afraid we would fail. I was keeping watch on you two. I knew you hadn't worked out the egg's clue, so I had to give you another hint -"

"You didn't," Harry said hoarsely. "Cedric gave me the clue -" I kept my mouth shut, my mind racing, not in disbelief that Moody was to blame, but with confusion over why he had done it. I just couldn't grasp why he would betray my grandfather after so many years of friendship.

"Who told Cedric to open it underwater? I did. I trusted that he would pass the information on to you. Decent people are so easy to manipulate. I was sure Cedric would want to repay you for telling him about the dragons, and so he did. But even then, even then you seemed likely to fail. I was watching all the time...all those hours in the library and trying to control your powers and failing time and time again when you are the most powerful witch that has ever lived! It was aggravating to watch! All those wasted powers in the body of a pathetic little girl not worthy of them! Not worthy to claim her spot on the throne as the Dark Lady! As for you, Mr. Potter. Didn't you realize that the book you needed was in your dormitory all along? I planted it there early on, I gave it to the Longbottom boy, don't you remember? Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean. It would have told you all you needed to know about gillyweed. I expected you to ask everyone and anyone you could for help. Longbottom would have told you in an instant. But you did not...you did not...You have a streak of pride and independence that might have ruined all.

"So what could I do? Feed you information from another innocent source. You told me at the Yule Ball a house-elf called Dobby had given you a Christmas present. I called the elf to the staffroom to collect some robes for cleaning. I staged a loud conversation with Professor McGonagall about the hostages who had been taken, and whether Potter would think to use gillyweed. And your little elf friend ran straight to Snape's office and then hurried to find you..."

Moodys wand was still pointing directly at Harry's heart. Over his shoulder, foggy shapes were moving in the Foe-Glass on the wall. As I watched them, I thought over what Moody had just said. What was all this nonsense about me being the most powerful witch! Not to mention all that Dark Lady crap! Moody must clearly be as insane as Voldemort! I was not anyone special! I was just...well...me!

"You were so long in that lake, I thought you two had drowned. But luckily, Dumbledore took your idiocy for nobility, and marked you high for it. I breathed again.

"You had an easier time of it than you should have in that maze tonight, of course," said Moody. "I was patrolling around it, able to see through the outer hedges, able to curse many obstacles out of your way. I Stunned Fleur Delacour as she passed. I put the Imperius Curse on you and Krum, so that you would finish Diggory and leave your path to the cup clear."

I stared at Moody. Dumbledore's friend, the famous Auror...the one who had caught so many Death Eaters...was the one who had cast the imperious curse on me. I gotta say, I was getting bloody sick of that stupid spell! And why was I the only one who ever seemed to fall victim to it! Even when I'm one of the few people who know how to fight it, I still lose to it! Stupid spell! I ground my teeth in anger as I stared at the one-eyed, one-legged freak before me. Ohhh, when I got my hands on him, he would regret the day he was ever born!

The foggy shapes in the Foe-Glass were sharpening, had become more distinct. I could see the outlines of three people over Moody's shoulder, moving closer and closer. But Moody wasn't watching them. His magical eye was upon Harry and I.

"The Dark Lord didn't manage to kill you, Potter, or convert you to his side to be his Dark Lady, Ms. Riddle, and he so wanted to," whispered Moody. "Imagine how he will reward me when he finds I have done it for him. I gave you to him - the thinga he needed above all to regenerate - and then I killed you for him and returned his daughter to him. I will be honored beyond all other Death Eaters. I will be his dearest, his closest supporter...closer than a son...just think, Little Miss Riddle, you'll finally have a brother in me."

Moody's normal eye was bulging, the magical eye fixed upon me. The door was barred, and I knew Harry, Drake, and I would never be able to defend ourselves in time...but that didn't mean I wasn't going to try. I scrunched up my nose at the thought of having Moody for a brother, let alone the thought of being Voldemort's daughter. And why was he calling me Riddle! That wasn't my name! Gahhhh!

"I don't know what delusion you and your master are living in, but I am NOT the Dark Lord's daughter, I am NOT the most powerful witch, and I am certainly NOT your brother!" I growled out. My fists clenched at my side as flames burst into life around them and down the length of my hair. Moody took a step back from me and I could see a hint of fear in his eyes, but it was brief.

 

(Picture Kat though)

"The Dark Lord and I," said Moody, and he looked completely insane now, towering over me, leering down at me as he stroked my cheek, "have much in common. Both of us, for instance, had very disappointing fathers...very disappointing indeed. Both of us suffered the indignity, Katrina, of being named after those fathers. And both of us had the pleasure...the very great pleasure...of killing our fathers to ensure the continued rise of the Dark Order!"

"You're mad," Harry said as I closed my eyes against Moody's touch. There was a gleam in his eyes that hadn't been there before and I did not like it. He was staring down at me like a piece of meat  - I couldn't stop myself from mimicking Harry's thought - "you're mad!"

"Mad, am I?" said Moody, his voice rising uncontrollably as he continued to stroke my cheek. "We'll see! We'll see who's mad, now that the Dark Lord has returned, with me at his side! He is back, Lady Riddle, you and your pathetic friend did not conquer him - and now - I conquer you!" My eyes widened at the meaning behind his words and the lusting hunger in his eyes. 

Moody raised his wand, he opened his mouth; I plunged my own hand into my robes -  
"Stupefy!" There was a blinding flash of red light, and with a great splintering and crashing, the door of Moody's office was blasted apart -  
Moody was thrown backward onto the office floor. I, still staring at the place where Moody's face had been inches in front of mine, saw Albus Dumbledore, Professor Snape, and Professor McGonagall looking back at me out of the Foe-Glass. Drake and I looked around and saw the three of them standing in the doorway, My grandfather in front, his wand outstretched.

At that moment, I fully understood for the first time why people said my grandfather was the only wizard Voldemort had ever feared. The look upon his face as he stared down at the unconscious form of Mad-Eye Moody was more terrible than I could have ever imagined. There was no benign smile upon my grandfather's face, no twinkle in the eyes behind the spectacles. There was cold fury in every line of the ancient face; a sense of power radiated from Dumbledore as though he were giving off burning heat.

He stepped into the office, placed a foot underneath Moodys unconscious body, and kicked him over onto his back, so that his face was visible. Snape followed him, looking into the Foe-Glass, where his own face was still visible, glaring into the room and then as his eyes raked over my disheveled and bloody appearance, they softened and filled with worry. Minnie went straight to me and Harry.

"Come along, Kat, dear. And you to, Potter," she whispered. The thin line of her mouth was twitching as though she was about to cry.   
"Come along...hospital wing..."

"No," said grandfather sharply.

"Dumbledore, they ought to - look at her - she...they...have been through enough tonight -"

"My granddaughter and Mr. Potter will stay, Minerva, because they need to understand," said my grandfather curtly. "Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery. They need to know who has put them through the ordeal they have suffered tonight, and why." To be honest, I had stopped paying attention at the word granddaughter. My eyes widening in shock as, for the very first time, I heard my grandfather admit in public our relation to one another. Though I was willing to bet that both Sev and Minnie already knew and after Rita's article everyone else did as well, I was still going to consider this progress for us. I was tired of all the secrets and hidden meetings. I wanted to openly enjoy the company of the few remaining family members that I had left!

"Moody," I heard Harry say. He was still in a state of complete disbelief. "How can it have been Moody?"

"This is not Alastor Moody," said grandfather quietly. "You have never known Alastor Moody. The real Moody would not have removed you two from my sight after what happened tonight. The moment he took you, I knew - and I followed." Grandfather looked over at me his eyes both filled with worry, and a hardness I had never seen before.

He bent down over Moody's limp form and put a hand inside his robes. He pulled out Moody's hip flask and a set of keys on a ring. Then he turned to Professors McGonagall and Snape.  
"Severus, please fetch me the strongest Truth Potion you possess, and then go down to the kitchens and bring up the house-elf called Winky. Minerva, kindly go down to Hagrid's house, where you will find a large black dog sitting in the pumpkin patch. Take the dog up to my office, tell him I will be with him shortly, then come back here." I looked up at this last mention. Was he talking about who I thought he was talking about?! 

If either Snape or McGonagall found these instructions peculiar, they hid their confusion. Both turned at once and left the office. Grandfather walked over to the trunk with seven locks, fitted the first key in the lock, and opened it. It contained a mass of spell-books. Dumbledore closed the trunk, placed a second key in the second lock, and opened the trunk again. The spellbooks had vanished; this time it contained an assortment of broken Sneako-scopes, some parchment and quills, and what looked like a silvery Invisibility Cloak. Harry and I watched, astounded, as my grandfather placed the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth keys in their respective locks, reopening the trunk each time, and revealing different contents each time. Then he placed the seventh key in the lock, threw open the lid, and I let out a cry of amazement.

I was looking down into a kind of pit, an underground room, and lying on the floor some ten feet below, apparently fast asleep, thin and starved in appearance, was the real Mad-Eye Moody. His wooden leg was gone, the socket that should have held the magical eye looked empty beneath its lid, and chunks of his grizzled hair were missing. I stared, thunderstruck, between the sleeping Moody in the trunk and the unconscious Moody lying on the floor of the office. The puzzle was starting to fit together as I thought back over the events of this year and flashed back to our second year when I had helped Hermione make Polyjuice Potion but I could see that Harry, as usual, was still confused. 

Grandfather climbed into the trunk, lowered himself, and fell lightly onto the floor beside the sleeping Moody. He bent over him.  
"Stunned - controlled by the Imperius Curse - very weak," he said. "Of course, they would have needed to keep him alive. Katrina, sweetie, throw down the imposter's cloak - he's freezing. Madam Pomfrey will need to see him, but he seems in no immediate danger."

I did as I was told; Dumbledore covered Moody in the cloak, tucked it around him, and clambered out of the trunk again. Then he picked up the hip flask that stood upon the desk, unscrewed it, and turned it over. A thick glutinous liquid splattered onto the office floor.

"Polyjuice Potion," I said, my suspicions confirmed.

"You see the simplicity of it, and the brilliance. For Moody never does drink except from his hip flask, he's well known for it. The imposter needed, of course, to keep the real Moody close by, so that he could continue making the potion. You see his hair..." Dumbledore looked down on the Moody in the trunk. "The imposter has been cutting it off all year, see where it is uneven? But I think, in the excitement of tonight, our fake Moody might have forgotten to take it as frequendy as he should have done...on the hour...every hour...We shall see."

Grandfather pulled out the chair at the desk and sat down upon it, his eyes fixed upon the unconscious Moody on the floor. I stared at him too. Minutes passed in silence... 

Then, before my very eyes, the face of the man on the floor began to change. The scars were disappearing, the skin was becoming smooth; the mangled nose became whole and started to shrink. The long mane of grizzled gray hair was withdrawing into the scalp and turning the color of straw. Suddenly, with a loud clunk, the wooden leg fell away as a normal leg regrew in its place; next moment, the magical eyeball had popped out of the man's face as a real eye replaced it; it rolled away across the floor and continued to swivel in every direction.

I saw a man lying before me, pale-skinned, slightly freckled, with a mop of fair hair. I knew who he was. I had seen him in grandfather's Pensieve, had watched him being led away from court by the dementors, trying to convince Mr. Crouch that he was innocent...but he was lined around the eyes now and looked much older...

There were hurried footsteps outside in the corridor. Snape had returned with Winky at his heels. Professor McGonagall was right behind them.

"Crouch!" Snape said, stopping dead in the doorway. "Barty Crouch!"

"Good heavens," said Professor McGonagall, stopping dead and staring down at the man on the floor.

Filthy, disheveled, Winky peered around Snape's legs. Her mouth opened wide and she let out a piercing shriek.

"Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you doing here?"

She flung herself forward onto the young man's chest.

"You is killed him! You is killed him! You is killed Master's son!"

"He is simply Stunned, Winky," said Dumbledore. "Step aside, please. Severus, you have the potion?"

Snape handed Dumbledore a small glass bottle of completely clear liquid: the Veritaserum with which he had threatened Harry in class. Dumbledore got up, bent over the man on the floor, and pulled him into a sitting position against the wall beneath the Foe-Glass, in which the reflections of Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall were still glaring down upon us all. Winky remained on her knees, trembling, her hands over her face. 

Grandfather forced the man's mouth open and poured three drops inside it. Then he pointed his wand at the mans chest and said, "Ennervate."

Crouch's son opened his eyes. His face was slack, his gaze unfocused. Dumbledore knelt before him, so that their faces were level.

"Can you hear me?" Dumbledore asked quietly.  
The man's eyelids flickered.

"Yes," he muttered.

"I would like you to tell us," said Dumbledore softly, "how you came to be here. How did you escape from Azkaban?"

Crouch took a deep, shuddering breath, then began to speak in a flat, expressionless voice.

I stood there, listening to Crouch recount the tale of his mother's sacrifice and how she had taken his place so that he may live. If it wasn't for the fact that he had tried to kill my best friend and I, I might have felt sorry for him, but then I remembered the lust in his eyes as he declared that he would conquer me and I shivered and glared down at him. Drake shifted slightly on my shoulders, trying to offer me comfort and I patted him to show my appreciation. 

"Tell me about the Quidditch World Cup," said Grandfather. I perked up at this. I wanted to know why he had tried to kidnap me.

"Winky talked my father into it," said Crouch, still in the same monotonous voice. "She spent months persuading him. I had not left the house for years. I had loved Quidditch. Let him go, she said. He will be in his Invisibility Cloak. He can watch. Let him smell fresh air for once. She said my mother would have wanted it. She told my father that my mother had died to give me freedom. She had not saved me for a life of imprisonment. He agreed in the end.

"It was carefully planned. My father led me and Winky up to the Top Box early in the day. Winky was to say that she was saving a seat for my father. I was to sit there, invisible. When everyone had left the box, we would emerge. Winky would appear to be alone. Nobody would ever know.

"But Winky didn't know that I was growing stronger. I was starting to fight my father's Imperius Curse. There were times when I was almost myself again. There were brief periods when I seemed outside his control. It happened, there, in the Top Box. It was like waking from a deep sleep. I found myself out in public, in the middle of the match, and I saw, in front of me, a wand sticking out of a boys pocket. I had not been allowed a wand since before Azkaban. I stole it. Winky didn't know. Winky is frightened of heights. She had her face hidden. And then I saw her. The most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on. It had been such a long time since I had been with anybody and all I knew was that I had to have her so I started plotting a way to get my hands on her.

"Master Barty, you bad boy!" whispered Winky, tears trickling between her fingers.

"So you took the wand," said Grandfather, his eyes narrowing at Crouch's infatuation with me, "and what did you do with it?"

"We went back to the tent," said Crouch. "Then we heard them. We heard the Death Eaters. The ones who had never been to Azkaban. The ones who had never suffered for my master. They had turned their backs on him. They were not enslaved, as I was. They were free to seek him, but they did not. They were merely making sport of Muggles. The sound of their voices awoke me. My mind was clearer than it had been in years. I was angry. I had the wand and the girl, who I had gotten my hands on earlier but she would have to wait till I dealt with those traitors.

I wanted to attack them for their disloyalty to my master. My father had left the tent; he had gone to free the Muggles. Winky was afraid to see me so angry. She used her own brand of magic to bind me and the girl to her. She pulled me from the tent, pulled me into the forest, away from the Death Eaters. I tried to hold her back. I wanted to return to the campsite. I wanted to show those Death Eaters what loyalty to the Dark Lord meant, and to punish them for their lack of it. I used the stolen wand to cast the Dark Mark into the sky.

"Ministry wizards arrived. They shot Stunning Spells everywhere. One of the spells came through the trees where Winky, the girl, and I stood. The bond connecting us was broken. We were both Stunned.

"When Winky and the girl were discovered, my father knew I must be nearby. He searched the bushes where they had been found and felt me lying there. He waited until the other Ministry members had left the forest. He put me back under the Imperius Curse and took me home. He dismissed Winky. She had failed him. She had let me acquire a wand. She had almost let me escape."

Winky let out a wail of despair.

"Now it was just Father and I, alone in the house. And then...and then..." Crouch's head rolled on his neck, and an insane grin spread across his face. "My master came for me.

"He arrived at our house late one night in the arms of his servant Wormtail. My master had found out that I was still alive. He had captured Bertha Jorkins in Albania. He had tortured her. She told him a great deal. She told him about the Triwizard Tournament. She told him the old Auror, Moody, was going to teach at Hogwarts. He tortured her until he broke through the Memory Charm my father had placed upon her. She told him I had escaped from Azkaban. She told him my father kept me imprisoned to prevent me from seeking my master. And so my master knew that I was still his faithful servant - perhaps the most faithful of all. My master conceived a plan, based upon the information Bertha had given him. He needed me. He arrived at our house near midnight. My father answered the door."

The smile spread wider over Crouch's face, as though recalling the sweetest memory of his life. Winky's petrified brown eyes were visible through her fingers. She seemed too appalled to speak.

"It was very quick. My father was placed under the Imperius Curse by my master. Now my father was the one imprisoned, controlled. My master forced him to go about his business as usual, to act as though nothing was wrong. And I was released. I awoke. I was myself again, alive as I hadn't been in years.

"And what did Lord Voldemort ask you to do?" said grandfather. 

"He asked me whether I was ready to risk everything for him. I was ready. It was my dream, my greatest ambition, to serve him, to prove myself to him. He told me he needed to place a faithful servant at Hogwarts. A servant who would guide Harry Potter and the young mistress through the Triwizard Tournament without appearing to do so. A servant who would watch over Harry Potter and the Lady Riddle. Ensure they reached the Triwizard Cup. Turn the cup into a Portkey, which would take the first people to touch it to my master. But first -"

"You needed Alastor Moody," said Dumbledore. His blue eyes were blazing, though his voice remained calm.

"Wormtail and I did it. We had prepared the Polyjuice Potion beforehand. We journeyed to his house. Moody put up a struggle. There was a commotion. We managed to subdue him just in time. Forced him into a compartment of his own magical trunk. Took some of his hair and added it to the potion. I drank it; I became Moody's double. I took his leg and his eye. I was ready to face Arthur Weasley when he arrived to sort out the Muggles who had heard a disturbance. I made the dustbins move around the yard. I told Arthur Weasley I had heard intruders in my yard, who had set off the dustbins. Then I packed up Moody's clothes and Dark detectors, put them in the trunk with Moody, and set off for Hogwarts. I kept him alive, under the Imperius Curse. I wanted to be able to question him. To find out about his past, learn his habits, so that I could fool even Dumbledore. I also needed his hair to make the Polyjuice Potion. The other ingredients were easy. I stole boom-slang skin from the dungeons. When the Potions master found me in his office, I said I was under orders to search it."

"And what became of Wormtail after you attacked Moody?" said Dumbledore.

"Wormtail returned to care for my master, in my father's house, and to keep watch over my father."

"But your father escaped," said Dumbledore.

"Yes. After a while he began to fight the Imperius Curse just as I had done. There were periods when he knew what was happening. My master decided it was no longer safe for my father to leave the house. He forced him to send letters to the Ministry instead. He made him write and say he was ill. But Wormtail neglected his duty. He was not watchful enough. My father escaped. My master guessed that he was heading for Hogwarts. My father was going to tell Dumbledore everything, to confess. He was going to admit that he had smuggled me from Azkaban.

"My master sent me word of my father's escape. He told me to stop him at all costs. So I waited and watched. I used the map I had taken from Harry Potter. The map that had almost ruined everything."

"Map?" said Dumbledore quickly. "What map is this?"

"Potter's map of Hogwarts. Potter saw me on it. Potter saw me stealing more ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion from Snape's office one night. He thought I was my father. We have the same first name. I took the map from Potter that night. I told him my father hated Dark wizards. Potter believed my father was after Snape.

"For a week I waited for my father to arrive at Hogwarts. At last, one evening, the map showed my father entering the grounds. I pulled on my Invisibility Cloak and went down to meet him. He was walking around the edge of the forest. Then Potter and the Lady Riddle came, and Krum. I waited. I could not hurt my mistress; my master needed her and the boy. Potter ran to get Dumbledore. I Stunned Krum and Miss Riddle...though it pained me to do so. But master had said I would get my chance to have my way with her once she had been returned to him alive and well so I did the job I had been asked to do. I killed my father."

"Noooo!" wailed Winky. "Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you saying?"

 

"You killed your father," Dumbledore said, in the same soft voice but laced with disgust and and pure anger at the thought of Crouch having his way way with me. I trembled and buried my face in Harry's cheat as he drew me in close. Being held as such, I didn't see the burning rage in his eyes that matched my grandfathers.   
"What did you do with the body?"

"Carried it into the forest. Covered it with the Invisibility Cloak. I had the map with me. I watched Potter run into the castle. He met Snape. Dumbledore joined them. I watched Potter bringing Dumbledore out of the castle. I walked back out of the forest, doubled around behind them, went to meet them. I told Dumbledore Snape had told me where to come.

"Dumbledore told me to go and look for my father. I went back to my father's body. Watched the map. When everyone was gone, I Transfigured my father's body. He became a bone...I buried it, while wearing the Invisibility Cloak, in the freshly dug earth in front of Hagrid's cabin."

There was complete silence now, except for Winky's continued sobs. Then Dumbledore said, "And tonight..."

"I offered to carry the Triwizard Cup into the maze before dinner," whispered Barty Crouch. "Turned it into a Portkey. My master's plan worked. He is returned to power and I will be honored by him beyond the dreams of wizards and be rewarded with the girl of my dreams!"

The insane smile lit his features once more, and his head drooped onto his shoulder as Winky wailed and sobbed at his side.

********************************************

In-line Comments

\- Anyone know the quite i'm talking about? lol  
\- Poor Kat, everyone is obsessed with her in a bad way, i'll be going back in eventually and adding more scenes with Crouch's feelings towards her etc but as I've been mentioning, this first run through of the books is just to get the main story down on paper before I go in and really add in a ton of extra scenes etc its just otherwise I'd never get anything published because i'm too much of a perfectionist so again just want to make it clear to everyone that yes there is a lot from the book right now but I DO plan to expand on her character a LOT more and have her say a lot more and break away into her own person etc. But as I said, I'm just trying to get through the books so that I have a layout to build upon cuz otherwise I'd still be on like chpt 4 of the first book. Hope that makes sense?! Just don't want anyone to keep thinking that Kat is just another Harry and that I don't ever deviate from the story believe me i have tons of ideas cooked up that I plan to add back in later.  
\- As always, let me know what you thought of this latest chapter!


	94. The Parting of Ways

Katrina's POV

Grandfather stood up. He stared down at Barty Crouch for a moment with disgust on his face. Then he raised his wand once more and ropes flew out of it, ropes that twisted themselves around Barty Crouch, binding him tightly. He turned to Professor McGonagall.

"Minerva, could I ask you to stand guard here while I take Katrina and Harry upstairs?"

"Of course," said Minnie. She looked slightly nauseous, as though she had just watched someone being sick. However, when she drew out her wand and pointed it at Barty Crouch, her hand was quite steady.

"Severus" - Dumbledore turned to Snape - "please tell Madam Pomfrey to come down here; we need to get Alastor Moody into the hospital wing. Then go down into the grounds, find Cornelius Fudge, and bring him up to this office. He will undoubtedly want to question Crouch himself. Tell him I will be in the hospital wing in half an hour's time if he needs me."

Snape nodded silently and swept out of the room.

"Harry, Katrina," Grandfather said gently.

I got up and swayed again; the pain in my arm and neck, along with the blood loss, which I had not noticed while I had been listening to Crouch, now returned in full measure. I also realized that I was shaking. Grandfather gripped my good arm and helped me out into the dark corridor.

"I want you two to come up to my office first," he said quietly as we headed up the passageway. "Sirius is waiting for us there."

I nodded. A kind of numbness and a sense of complete unreality were upon me, but I did not care; I was even glad of it. I didn't want to have to examine the memories, which kept flashing across my mind. Mad-Eye Moody, inside the trunk. Wormtail, slumped on the ground, cradling his stump of an arm. Voldemort, rising from the steaming cauldron. Cedric...dead...or alive, I still didn't know. 

"Professor," Harry mumbled, "where are Mr. and Mrs. Diggory?"

"They are with Madam Pomfrey," said grandfather. His voice, which had been so calm throughout the interrogation of Barty Crouch, shook very slightly for the first time. "She is doing the best that she can."

We had reached the stone gargoyle. My grandfather gave the password, it sprang aside, and he, Harry, and I went up the moving spiral staircase to the oak door. Dumbledore pushed it open. Sirius was standing there. His face was white and gaunt as it had been when he had escaped Azkaban. In one swift moment, he had crossed the room.

"Angelous paulo, are you all right? I knew it - I knew something like this - what happened?" His hands shook as he helped Harry and I into chairs in front of the desk.

"What happened?" he asked more urgently.  
Grandfather began to tell Sirius everything Barty Crouch had said. I was only half listening. So tired every bone in my body was aching, I wanted nothing more than to sit here, undisturbed, until I fell asleep and didn't have to think or feel anymore.

There was a soft rush of wings. Fawkes the phoenix had left his perch, flown across the office, and landed in my lap. Drake and he nuzzled beaks and I awwwed at the sight.

"'Hey, Fawkes," I said, quietly. I stroked the phoenix's beautiful scarlet-and-gold plumage. Fawkes blinked peacefully up at me. There was something comforting about his warm weight.

I sighed heavily and shifted into my current favorite form: a snow leopard. I crawled over to the fireplace and curled up in front of it. Drake still resting on me. 

Grandfather stopped talking. He sat down opposite Harry, behind his desk. He was looking at Harry and I from my spot by the fireplace. I avoided his gaze. This was why I had shifted into animal form. Grandfather was going to question us. He was going to make us relive everything, I just hoped that Harry would forgive me for making him do it...

"I need to know what happened after you touched the Portkey in the maze, you two," said my grandfather, confirming my suspicions.

"We can leave that till morning, can't we, Dumbledore?" said Sirius harshly. He had come over to sit next to me by the fire and was stroking my soft fur with his calloused hands. "Let them have a sleep. Let them rest."

I felt a rush of gratitude toward my father and I lifted my head up to lick his face; causing him to grin down at me, but grandfather took no notice of Sirius's words. He leaned forward toward Harry and I. Harry looked at me but I just swished my tail back and forth and he rolled his eyes at me but smiled gently at the image of my father and I with Drake. Family photo time! I thought; knowing that now wasn't the time, but I needed to distract myself with mundane thoughts.

Very unwillingly, Harry raised his head and looked into my grandfather's blue eyes.

"You two have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you. I ask you to demonstrate your courage one more time. I ask you to tell us what happened," grandfather said gently.

The phoenix let out one soft, quavering note. It shivered in the air, and I saw Harry take a deep breath and begin to tell them. As he spoke, visions of everything that had passed that night seemed to rise before my eyes; I saw the sparkling surface of the potion that had revived Voldemort; I saw Nagini and heard her dark whispers to me, saw the Death Eaters Apparating between the graves around us; I saw Cedric's body, lying on the ground beside the cup.

Once or twice, my father made a noise as though about to say something, his hand still tightly clenched in my white spotted fur, but Grandfather raised his hand to stop him, and I was glad of this, because I knew it was easier for Harry to keep going now he had started. 

When Harry told of Wormtail piercing his arm with the dagger and slicing off the skin of my neck, however, Sirius let out a vehement exclamation and Dumbledore stood up so quickly that I started. Unfortunately for Drake, he rolled off me with a thud. 

"What," I said to him, with a cheeky look. It hadn't been the first time he had taken a tumble from me. He just glared at me before settling back down. 

Grandfather walked around the desk and told Harry to stretch out his arm. After inspecting Harry, he came over to me and bent down. Gingerly, he pulled aside the fur at the nape of my neck and gazed down furiously at the raw and bloody gap that was there.

"He said my blood and her skin would make him stronger than if he'd used someone else's," Harry told Dumbledore. "He said the protection my - our mothers left in us - he'd have it too. And he was right - he could touch us without hurting himself, he touched Kat," I saw Harry grit his teeth as he looked over at me. The overprotective idiot probably blamed himself for everything that happened. I'd needed to talk to him about that when I got the chance.

"Very well," grandfather said, sitting down again. "Voldemort has overcome that particular barrier. Harry, continue, please."

Harry went on; he explained how Voldemort had emerged from the cauldron, and told my father and grandfather all he could remember of Voldemort's speech to the Death Eaters. Then he told how Voldemort had untied us, returned our wand to us, and when I had refused to join him and rule by his side, prepared to duel.

But when he reached the part where the golden beams of light had connected our wands and Voldemort's wand, he faltered. I knew he must be thinking about what had happened and who he had seen and I couldn't help but remember the ghostly image of my mother as she gazed at me with pride. 

I was glad when Sirius broke the silence.

"The wands connected?" he said, looking from Harry to me to Dumbledore. "Why?" I looked up at grandfather again, on whose face there was an arrested look. "Priori Incantatem," he muttered.

His eyes gazed into mine and it was almost as though an invisible beam of understanding shot between us.

"The Reverse Spell effect?" said Sirius sharply.

"Exactly," said Dumbledore. "Harry's and Katrina's wands and Voldemorts wand share cores. Each of them contains a feather from the tail of the same phoenix. This phoenix, in fact," he added, and he pointed at the scarlet-and-gold bird, perching peacefully now on Harry's knee.

"Our wand's feathers came from Fawkes?" Harry said, amazed. I wasn't too surprised at this revelation. I had guessed as much in our second year when we had first met him. Harry could be so clueless sometimes, bless his heart.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "Mr. Ollivander wrote to tell me you had bought the second and third wand, the moment you two left his shop four years ago."

"So what happens when a wand meets its brother and sister?" said Sirius.

"They will not work properly against each other," said Dumbledore. "If, however, the owners of the wands force the wands to do battle...a very rare effect will take place. One of the wands will force the other to regurgitate spells it has performed - in reverse. The most recent first...and then those which preceded it..."

He looked interrogatively at Harry and I, and we nodded.

"Which means," said Dumbledore slowly, his eyes upon my face, "that some form of my daughter must have reappeared."

I nodded again.

"Eliana came back to life?" said Sirius sharply.

"No spell can reawaken the dead," said grandfather heavily. "All that would have happened is a kind of reverse echo. A shadow of the living Eliana would have emerged from the wand...am I correct, Katrina."

"She spoke to me," I said. I had learned how to speak mentally to people like Drake and I did; which I had found to be a very useful trait for when I was in animal form. I was suddenly shaking again. "The...the ghost Eliana, or whatever she was, spoke."

"An echo," said Dumbledore, "which retained my daughter's appearance and character. I am guessing other such forms appeared...more recent victims of Voldemort's wand...."

"An old man," I said, my throat still constricted. "Bertha Jorkins. And..." I glanced over at Harry.

"Your parents?" said Dumbledore quietly, looking at Harry.

"Yes," said Harry.

Sirius's grip on my fur was now so tight it was painful.

"The last murders the wand performed," said Dumbledore, nodding. "In reverse order. More would have appeared, had you maintained the connection.

Very well, Harry, Katrina, these echoes, these shadows...what did they do?" I couldn't speak around the lump in my throat so I nodded to Harry.

Harry described how the figures that had emerged from the wand had prowled the edges of the golden web, how Voldemort had seemed to fear them, how the shadows of our mothers had told us what to do.

"I will say it again," said grandfather as the phoenix rose into the air and resettled itself upon the perch beside the door. "You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected. Harry, Katrina. You will come with me to the hospital wing. I do not want you two returning to the dormitory tonight. A Sleeping Potion, and some peace...Sirius, would you like to stay with them?"

My father nodded and stood up. He transformed back into the great black dog as I shifted back to human and walked with Harry, Dumbledore, and I out of the office, accompanying us down a flight of stairs to the hospital wing.

When Grandfather pushed open the door, I saw Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron, and Hermione grouped around a harassed-looking Madam Pomfrey. They appeared to be demanding to know where Harry and I were and what had happened to us. All of them whipped around as we entered, and Mrs. Weasley let out a kind of muffled scream.

"Harry! Katrina!"

Hermione started to run over to me, but Grandfather moved between us. Hey! Why can't I hug my best friend! Hugs aren't illegal! Not unless some crazy lady somehow manages to get herself in charge of making laws and decides to be an idiot and ban them! But no one in their right mind would ever do that!

"Molly," grandfather said, holding up a hand, "please listen to me for a moment. Harry and Katrina have been through a terrible ordeal tonight. They have just had to relive it for me. What they need now is sleep, and peace, and quiet. If they would like you all to stay," he added, looking around at Ron, Hermione, and Bill too, "you may do so. But I do not want you questioning them until they are ready to answer, and certainly not this evening."

You mean Harry had to relive it...well I guess I did too but he had it much worse. I thought, feeling sorry for my friend - but not feeling guilty for making him be the one to say it out loud...ok maybe I felt a smidge guilty...

"Why wouldn't we want them to stay!" I said, indignantly. My friends looked at me with smiles while grandfather just rolled his eyes at me.

Mrs. Weasley nodded. She was very white. She rounded on Ron, Hermione, and Bill as though they were being noisy, and hissed, "Did you hear? They need quiet!"

"Actually, Mrs. Weasley, I wouldn't mind. I could use a distraction!" I said. I just wanted to think about anything other than what had happened tonight. Hermione and Ron usually managed to do just that, what with all their constant bickering.

"Headmaster," said Madam Pomfrey, staring at the great black dog that was my father.

"may I ask what - ?"

"This dog will be remaining with Harry and Katrina for a while," said Dumbledore simply. "I assure you, he is extremely well trained. Harry, Kat dear - I will wait while you get into bed."

I felt gratitude to my grandfather for asking the others not to question Harry and I but huffed at the fact that with him in the room, my friends were not likely to speak; thereby not helping to calm my mind. I kept remembering Voldemort's insistence that he had been the one to father me, a thought that I did not want to pursue further. But as I conjured my favorite fluffy pajamas, I couldn't help glancing at the black dog and thinking. The more I thought about it, the more I started to worry. Other than having dark hair, I couldn't really see many similarities between us - besides our love of mischief that is.

It couldn't possibly be true though!

But I had finally met my mother; if you could count that as a meeting, and there were definitely commonalities between us, but not enough to explain the drastic contrast between Sirius and I! I shook my head, trying to convince myself that Voldemort was just trying to get in my head, but things kept fitting together to make it seem otherwise. 

Like the fact that I could speak parseltongue - though that could be a result of a bit of his soul being in me like grandfather had said had happened at the end of our first year. Yeah, that must be it, that had to be the explanation! I don't think I can handle any more secrets and lies right now! Especially not one as huge as potentially being the daughter of the Dark Lord!

"I will be back to see you as soon as I have met with Fudge," said grandfather. "I would like you to remain here tomorrow until I have spoken to the school." He gave me one more glance before leaving the room.

As I joined Harry on his bed; shifting into my lion cub form and curling up in his lap, I caught sight of the real Moody lying motionless in a bed at the far end of the room. His wooden leg and magical eye were lying on the bedside table. I hope he is going to be ok! I thought. Harry must have been thinking the same thing.

"Is he okay?" he asked.

"He'll be fine," said Madam Pomfrey as Ron, Hermione, Bill, Mrs. Weasley, and my father came around the screen and settled themselves in chairs on either side of us. I flicked my tail at Hermione, who was looking at Harry with tears in her eyes. She gave me a watery smile as I then nudged Harry's hand, "asking" him to pet me. I couldn't help purring. Hey, don't judge me, it feels bloody amazing!

"We're all right," Harry told our friends. "Just tired."

Mrs. Weasleys eyes filled with tears and I licked her hand as she smoothed the bed-covers around us unnecessarily.

Madam Pomfrey, who had bustled off to her office, returned holding a small bottle of some purple potion and a goblet.

"You'll need to drink all of this," she said as she poured my portion into a bowl so that I could lap it up. "It's a potion for dreamless sleep."

Harry held my bowl for me - aww he's so sweet - and I bent my head down and took a few hesitant mouthfuls. I felt myself becoming drowsy at once. 

Everything around me became hazy; the lamps around the hospital wing seemed to be winking at me in a friendly way through the screen around the bed; my body felt as though it was sinking deeper into the warmth of Harry's lap. 

Before I could finish the potion, before I could say another word, my exhaustion had carried me off to sleep.

********************************************

I woke up, so warm, so very sleepy and still in Harry's lap, that I didn't open my eyes, wanting to drop off again. The room was still dimly lit; I was sure it was still nighttime and had a feeling that I couldn't have been asleep very long.

Then I heard whispering.

"They'll wake them up if they don't shut up!"

"What are they shouting about? Nothing else can have happened, can it?"

I opened my eyes blearily, my sight hazey from sleep. I nudged Harry's hand and purred again as he resumed his stroking of my fur. I could see the fuzzy outlines of Mrs. Weasley and Bill close by through my half shut eyes. Mrs. Weasley was on her feet.

"That's Fudge's voice," she whispered. "And that's Minerva McGonagall's, isn't it? But what are they arguing about?"

Now I could hear them too: people shouting and running toward the hospital wing.

Mrs. Weasley was right, one of them was Minnie - and she sounded pissed. But at who? Wait was that Fudge? Ugh, I closed my eyes and focused on Harry's hands in my fur, not wanting to know what foolish thing Fudge had done now. Ever since he had stood by and watched as my grandfather got temporarily removed in our second year by Lucious, and then offered no help when Buckbeak/my mom was going to get beheaded last year; again because of Lucius, I had stopped thinking so highly of the Minister of Magic. He was just a glorified puppet whose strings were in the hand of the Malfoy's and their money. 

I watched numbly as first Minnie and Fudge entered the room, and then grandfather, and then Snape. Still not really wanting to know what new dreadful thing must have happened. If it wasn't for the fact that Ced was lying on one of the hospital beds, clearly breathing, I would have been more worried.

Finally, I looked over at Drake; who had curled up on the bedside table next to Harry and I and was actually paying attention to what was being said.

"So what happened now?" I asked, lazyly swishing my tail back and forth. 

"Fudge let dementors into the castle when he went to see Crouch Jr. and they went right for him the minute they entered the room." Drake explained to me.

"So Crouch had his soul sucked out of him?" I asked, confirming what I imagined had happened next. Drake nodded. 

"Good...it's less than he deserved though," I said, not able to generate enough energy to really care about the man's fate. 

I know I should care that someone was dead, but I just felt numb right now. But then I realized what Crouch's death would mean for my father. He would have to stay in hiding since there would be no way to prove his innocence not to mention that Voldemort was back. Fudge was not likely to take grandfather's, Harry, or my word alone. And the only man who could have confirmed our story was now dead...

I finally decided to tune into the conversation between Fudge and my grandfather.

"You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, on the word of a lunatic murderer, and a boy and girl who...well..."

Fudge shot Harry and I a look, and I suddenly understood. 

"You've been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr. Fudge," I said quietly, my tail flicking angrily.

Ron, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, and Bill all jumped. None of them had realized that either Harry and I were awake.

Fudge reddened slightly, but a defiant and obstinate look came over his face.

I glanced back and forth between my grandfather as they went back and forth. Fudge refusing to believe that Harry and I were sane, and telling the truth. He didn't seem to believe my grandfather when he tried to explain that our scars hurt us when Voldemort was close by, or feeling particularly murderous. 

Fudge clearly wasn't having any of it and I sat in silence as Harry tried to prove that we had seen Voldemort come back by naming Death Eaters that had been there, but I knew he was fighting a lost cause and decided to keep my maw shut. Be didn't even believe it when Snape strode forward a d showed him his Dark Mark. I had seen it during the summer of last year and he had explained everything to me after I refused to let the subject drop. The poor man had not had an easy life...

Fudge continued to be mule-headed and eventually turned around and made to leave the room.

He had almost reached the door when he paused. He turned around, strode back down the dormitory, and stopped at our bed.

"Your winnings," he said shortly, taking two large bags of gold out of his pocket and dropping them onto the bedside table. "One thousand Galleons each, since it ended in a tie. There should have been a presentation ceremony, but under the circumstances..."

He crammed his bowler hat onto his head and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The moment he had disappeared, grandfather turned to look at the group around our bed.

"There is work to be done," he said. "Molly...am I right in thinking that I can count on you and Arthur?"

"Of course you can," said Mrs. Weasley. She was white to the lips, but she looked resolute. "We know what Fudge is. It's Arthur's fondness for Muggles that has held him back at the Ministry all these years. Fudge thinks he lacks proper wizarding pride."

"Then I need to send a message to Arthur," said Dumbledore. "All those that we can persuade of the truth must be notified immediately, and he is well placed to contact those at the Ministry who are not as shortsighted as Cornelius."

"I'll go to Dad," said Bill, standing up. "I'll go now."

"Excellent," said Dumbledore. "Tell him what has happened. Tell him I will be in direct contact with him shortly. He will need to be discreet, however. If Fudge thinks I am interfering at the Ministry -"

"Leave it to me," said Bill.

"Stay safe, little Dumbledore," He said to me, with a kiss to the back of my paw. He then clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder, kissed his mother on the cheek, pulled on his cloak, and strode quickly from the room.

"Minerva," said grandfather, turning to Professor McGonagall, "I want to see Hagrid in my office as soon as possible. Also - if she will consent to come - Madame Maxime."

Minnie nodded and left without a word. I looked at my grandfather knowing that he was probably requesting their presence to get them to try and reach out to the giants before Voldemort could turn them all against us.

"Poppy," Dumbledore said to Madam Pomfrey, "would you be very kind and go down to Professor Moodys office, where I think you will find a house-elf called Winky in considerable distress? Do what you can for her, and take her back to the kitchens. I think Dobby will look after her for us."

"Very - very well," said Madam Pomfrey, looking startled, and she too left.

Grandfather made sure that the door was closed, and that Madam Pomfrey's footsteps had died away, before he spoke again.  
"And now," he said, "it is time for two of our number to recognize each other for what they are. Sirius...if you could resume your usual form."

The great black dog and I looked up at my grandfather - is that really a good idea? He must know how Snape and Sirius feel about each other, then, in an instant, turned back into a man.

Mrs. Weasley screamed and leapt back from the bed.

"Sirius Black!" she shrieked, pointing at him.

"Mum, shut up!" Ron yelled. "It's okay!" I couldn't help but laugh at this.

I looked over at my godfather worriedly, wondering how he would react.

Sev had not yelled or jumped backward, but the look on his face was one of mingled fury and horror.

"Him!" he snarled, staring at my father, whose face showed equal dislike. "What is he doing here?" I stood up on my paws in Harry's lap, my tail tucked in fear. 

"He is here at my invitation," said my grandfather, looking between them, "as are you, Severus. I trust you both. It is time for you to lay aside your old differences and trust each other."

I thought my grandfather was asking for a near miracle. Sirius and Snape were eyeing each other with the utmost loathing.

"I will settle, in the short term," said Dumbledore, with a bite of impatience in his voice, "for a lack of open hostility. You will shake hands. You are on the same side now. Time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth do not stand united, there is no hope for any us.

I watched in awe as very slowly - but still glaring at each other as though each wished the other nothing but ill - Sirius and Snape moved toward each other and shook hands. They let go extremely quickly.

"That will do to be going on with," said Dumbledore, stepping between them once more. "Now I have work for each of you. Fudge's attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, I need you to set off at once. You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher - the old crowd. Lie low at Lupin's for a while; I will contact you there."

"But -" Harry and I said.

I wanted my father to stay. I did not want to have to say goodbye again so quickly.

"You'll see me very soon. Mi angelous paulo," said Sirius, turning to me. "I promise you. But I must do what I can, you understand, don't you?"

"Yeah," I said, wishing that I did not. "Yeah...of course I do."

My father picked me up in his arms and kissed me all over until I was squirming in his hands and laughing wildly. He then put me back down in Harry's lap before grasping Harry's hand briefly. He nodded to grandfather, transformed again into the black dog, and ran the length of the room to the door, whose handle he turned with a paw. Then he was gone.

"Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready...if you are prepared..."

"I am," said Snape.

He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.

I leaped into Sev's arms and licked him all over, knowing exactly what my grandfather wanted him to do and not liking it one bit. Snape pried me off of him and set me back in Harry's lap once more, with a quick pat on my hand.

"Good luck," said Dumbledore, and he and I watched, with a trace of apprehension on our faces, as Snape swept wordlessly after Sirius.  
It was several minutes before my grandfather spoke again.

"I must go downstairs," he said finally. "Harry, Kat dear - take the rest of your potion. I will see all of you later."

Harry slumped back against his pillows as Dumbledore disappeared and I settled back down on his chest and resumed purring as he stroked my fur again. 

Hermione, Ron, and Mrs. Weasley were all looking at us. None of them spoke for a very long time.

"You've got to take the rest of your potion," Mrs. Weasley said at last. Her hand nudged the sacks of gold on the bedside cabinet as she reached for the bottle and the goblet. "You two have a good long sleep. Try and think about something else for a while...think about what you're going to buy with your winnings!"

"I don't want that gold," said Harry in an expressionless voice, I nodded my head in agreement. That gold was officially cursed like in those pirate movies Hermione had showed me over the summer! "You have it. Anyone can have it. We shouldn't have won it. It should've been Cedric's."

"It wasn't your fault. Either of you," Mrs. Weasley whispered.

"I told everyone we should just take the cup all at the same time!" I said, tears of frustration and guilt rolling down my snout.

Mrs. Weasley set the potion down on the bedside cabinet, bent down, picked me up with one hand and put her other arm around Harry. I had no memory of ever being hugged like this, as though by a mother. The full weight of everything I had seen that night seemed to fall in upon me as Mrs. Weasley held me to her. It all started spinning in my head until I could hardly bear it. 

There was a loud slamming noise, and Mrs. Weasley, Harry, and I broke apart - I leapt out of Mrs. Weasley's grasp and back to Harry my nerves rattling. Hermione was standing by the window. She was holding something tight in her hand.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"Your potion," said Mrs. Weasley quickly, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand.  
Harry and I drank it in one gulp. The effect was instantaneous. Heavy, irresistible waves of dreamless sleep broke over me; I curled up on Harry's chest, using it as a pillow and thought no more.

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In-Line Comments

\- Almost done! Let me know what you thought of this latest chapter!


	95. The Beginning

Katrina's POV

When I looked back, even a month later, I found I had only scattered memories of the next few days. It was as though I had been through too much to take in any more. The recollections I did have were very painful. The worst, perhaps, was the meeting with the Diggorys that took place the following morning.

They did not blame me for what had happened; on the contrary, both thanked Harry and I for making sure Cedric made it back to them. Apparently they were all going into hiding,  
which was the worst part. It would be a long time, possibly never, until I could see him again or even contact him. I understood the reason behind their decision, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to miss him! 

I seized the sacks of gold on the bedside table. I know Harry didn't want his and I certainly didn't want mine either. 

"You take this," I muttered to Mrs. Diggory. "It should've been Cedric's, he got there first, you take it -"

But she backed away from me

"Oh no, it's yours, dear, I couldn't...you two keep it."

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I returned to my room the following evening. 

From what Hermione and Ron told Harry and I, my grandfather had spoken to the school that morning at breakfast. He had merely requested that they leave Harry and I alone, that nobody ask us questions or badger us to tell the story of what had happened in the maze. Most people, I noticed, were avoiding us. 

I found I didn't care very much. I liked it best when I was with Harry, Ron and Hermione and we were talking about other things. 

The only person apart from Harry, Ron and Hermione that I felt able to talk to was Hagrid. As there was no longer a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, we had those lessons free. We used the one on Thursday afternoon to go down and visit Hagrid in his cabin. 

He told us how he had finally made up with Maxime and that they had been given a job by my grandfather for the summer. He wouldn't say what it was, but I could guess that it involved giants.

After an evening with Hagrid, my friends went down to the feast but I didn't have the energy to join them. I went back up to my room and focused on finding a way to approach my grandfather with what I wanted to talk to him about. Once everyone had left the castle, I was finally going to get some answers regarding this ridiculous idea that Voldemort was my real father. 

I knew I was being silly even to entertain the idea that such a notion could have even the slightest truth to it, but I just had to know for sure.  

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It was with a heavy heart that I helped Harry pack his trunk up in the dormitory on the night before his return to Privet Drive. Now that my relation to Dumbledore was out, he was finally letting me stay at Hogwarts for the summer. I was both excited and extremely nervous and sad to see Harry go.

I smirked as I saw Hermione tucking a jar into her bag She had explained to me how she had managed to catch Rita Skeeter; who had apparently been illegally transforming into a beetle - as an unregistered animagi.

I shook hands with Krum - who I had heard tell Hermione to keep in contact.

I followed my friends in the carriages that would take them to the Hogsmead Station. Before I headed back to the station, I handed Harry my share of the Triwizard Tournament winnings and suggested that he give it to the Twins who had been talking nonstop lately about wanting to open up a Joke Shop. I had a feeling that everyone was going to be in need for a laugh with the direction things were going. 

I helped Hermione onto the train and waved goodbye to my friends before making my way to my grandfather's office, determined to get some answers.

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In-line Comments

\- Omg Year 4 is finally complete! Hope you guys liked it! Stay tuned for the start of Year 5! Havent decided if I'm going to make it it's own book as well or just add it to the compilation version. If anyone has a preference for one or the other let me know!


	96. Of Truth & Dementors

Katrina's POV

I headed to my grandfather's study, my steps slow and heavy as I began to doubt whether this was a good idea or not. 

I paused in front of the stone gargoyle. Should I really be doing this? Before I could make up my mind, the door opened on its own. I sighed, I guess that was the universe's way of telling me to go for it. I mean what was the worst that could happen? Oh, I don't know...only the end of my life as I know it!

"Kat, dear! What are you doing here?" My grandfather looked up from the stack of papers on his desk in surprise. 

"I need to ask you something...and I need you to tell me the truth...no more lies!"

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One and a Half Months Later

I plodded down the empty streets of Diagon Alley, my belly grumbling as I tried to think of where to go next. 

It had been almost two months now since I had discovered the truth about what I was...an abomination. I had left that lying old man's office, packed up my things into a bag I had enchanted with an undetectable extension charm, and left the castle in wolf form...never looking back. 

I had nowhere to go. The castle; which I had once thought of as my home, was only filled with liers and I couldn't reach out to Sirius even if I wanted to. 

It turns out everyone had been lying to me from the moment of my birth. I was not the daughter of Eliana Dumbledore and Sirius Black like I had been told...no...I was the daughter of a murdering monster. It hurt that no one had trusted me with the truth - too worried that knowing where I really came from would somehow make me as evil as the vile creature who had spawned me.

As my paws clacked against the cobblestone path, my mind continued to wander and I barely noticed where my feet were taking me. 

It wasn't until I spotted a familiar park with a run-down metal swing set that I realized where I had accidentally ended up. If the familiar swing set hadn't been enough to jog my memory, the messy-haired boy sitting solemnly on one of the swings would have certainly done it. I blinked wildly. What was he doing here! I did not want to see him right now! 

I was just turning around to head anywhere else when I saw a group of boys heading towards Harry - that nasty cousin of his at the forefront.

I ducked into a nearby bush and watched as Dudley and his friends teased Harry. I was feeling mixed emotions. I knew now that my best friend had also been lying to me since the end of our second year, but at the same time, it hadn't been his fault that my grandfather had made him swear not to tell me. But that didn't mean I was prepared to forgive him just yet...

I watched with trepidation as Harry leapt up and pointed his wand at his cousin; who must have said something even stupider than normal. My eyes widened as I noticed the cloudless sky turn dark and the wind picked up. 

Something had happened to the night. The star-strewn indigo sky was suddenly pitch-black and lightless — the stars, the moon, the misty streetlamps at either end of the alley had vanished. The distant grumble of cars and the whisper of trees had gone. The balmy evening was suddenly piercingly, bitingly cold. 

Was Harry doing this? Or was I? I thought I had gotten better control over my powers but I definitely wasn't feeling like myself lately and my emotions were constantly fluctuating. But this storm didn't seem to be related to me. 

I watched as the other boys ran off, leaving Harry alone with Dudley. I hesitated before finally making up my mind. 

I slowly approached the two boys, not wanting to scare them. I saw Harry's eyes widen in recognition as he caught sight of my blue eyes but Dudley was freaking out. I couldn't help but giggle at the expression on his face as he saw my wolf form slink closer and closer towards him. 

I was about to change back to human, when I felt a shiver run down my spine. I howled into the night as an unnatural cold chilled me to the bone and I felt what little hope I had managed to cling onto these last few months leave me. I panicked when I realized what was happening and clawed at Harry's leg. Dementors! There must be one or more nearby!

I raced down the street and past the alleyways; Harry and Dudley chasing my tail.

It was impossible...They couldn't be here...Not in Little Whinging...I strained my wolf ears...I would hear them before I saw them...

I looked back at Harry and Dudley, who seemed to be having an argument. I rolled my eyes. Boys!

I opened my maw to tell them both two shut the bloody hell up but froze. I had heard just the thing I had been dreading.

There was something in the alleyway apart from ourselves, something that was drawing long, hoarse, rattling breaths. I felt a horrible jolt of dread as I stood trembling in the freezing air, my fur and tail sticking up straight.

WHAM !

I looked back just in time to see that the stupid idiot had decided to hit Harry in the side of the head, lifting my friend off of his feet.

I stepped towards Dudley, growling low under my breath, my sharp teeth glinting mercilessly. I may be ticked off with my friend for his role in keeping my parentage a secret from me, but that didn't mean I was going to standby and watch as he got hurt! By his git of a cousin, or dementors. 

"You moron, Dudley!" I heard Harry yell at his cousin, his eyes watering with pain, as he scrambled to his hands and knees, now feeling around frantically in the blackness. Fortunately for me, my sight was not hampered by the dark, my wolf eyes helping me to see where I was going. I watched as Dudley blundered away, hitting the alley fence and stumbling.

"DUDLEY, COME BACK! YOU'RE RUNNING RIGHT AT IT!"

I made my way to Harry and stuck my snout in his hand and pressed my body against him so that he would know that I was next to him. Clinging to my fur, he staggered to his feet.

There was a horrible squealing yell, and Dudley's footsteps stopped. At the same moment, I felt a creeping chill behind me that could mean only one thing. I was right to think that there might be more than one.

"DUDLEY, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! WHATEVER YOU DO, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! Wand!" Harry muttered frantically, his hands flying over the ground like spiders. 

"Where's — wand — come on — Lumos!"

I could tell that Harry had said the spell automatically, desperate for light to help him in his search — and I bent my head down and twitched my nose; silently muttering the spell in my mind - creating a ball of light in front of Harry's face, as I picked up his wand with my teeth. 

Harry tenderly took the wand from between my pointy pearly whites and despite the circumstances, I grinned at him. I didn't know why, but being so close to him after so long, was comforting, and I was finding it harder to stay mad at him.

He smiled back at me and we turned around.

My stomach churned.

A towering, hooded figure was gliding smoothly toward us, hovering over the ground, no feet or face visible beneath its robes, sucking on the night as it came.

Stumbling backward, I saw Harry raise his wand.

"Expecto Patronum!"

I repeated the words nonverbally myself, having discovered a while ago that I rarely needed to use my wand, and though it was comforting to have my wand in hand at times, I preferred not to use it when I was in the form of an animal.

A silvery wisp of vapor shot from the tip of Harry's wand and out of the thin air in front of me; causing the dementor to slow, but the spells hadn't worked properly; mine faltering due to the lack of power behind it. I was finding it difficult to focus on a happy memory right now; finding it much easier to sink further into the darkness that was quickly shrouding my mind.

My face paled as I noticed two more shapes heading for me. How many were there?!

Two pairs of gray, slimy, scabbed hands slid from inside the dementor's robes, reaching for me. A rushing noise filled my ears as I looked at the hands moving towards me.

"Expecto Patronum!"

My voice sounded dim and distant...Another wisp of silver smoke, feebler than the last, drifted outwards towards the dementors - I couldn't do it anymore, I couldn't work the spell - it would have to be up to Harry.

There was laughter inside my head, shrill, high-pitched laughter...I could smell the dementor's putrid, death-cold breath, filling my lungs, drowning me - my real father's voice whispering to me, welcoming me home to him...speaking to me of all the great things the two of us could accomplish together. I tried to think...something happy...anything...

But there was no happiness in me...what happiness could the daughter of someone so evil possibly have? I didn't deserve to be happy...

The dementor's icy fingers were closing on my throat — the high-pitched laughter was growing louder and louder, and a voice spoke inside my head — "Bow to death, my daughter...It might even be painless...I would not know...I have never died..."

I was never going to see Ron and Hermione again - I was never going to be able to tell Harry how I really felt about him...I was never going to get the chance to forgive my grandfather, to tell Sirius that I didn't care that he wasn't my biological dad...

And then their faces burst clearly into my mind as I fought for breath - my mum, Sirius, my grandfather...Hermione...Harry...

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

An enormous silver snake joined the silver stag that had erupted from the tip of Harry's wand; the snake's fangs caught the dementors in the place where their hearts should have been; the two in front of me were thrown backward, and as the snake slithered forward, the dementors swooped away, batlike and defeated.

 

"THIS WAY!" Harry and I shouted at the stag and snake. Wheeling around, I took off down the alleyway; Harry sprinting behind me, holding his lit wand aloft. "DUDLEY? DUDLEY!" I heard him calling out.

I had run barely a dozen steps when I reached them: Dudley was curled on the ground, his arms clamped over his face; a fourth dementor crouching low over him, gripping his wrists in its slimy hands, prizing them slowly, almost lovingly apart, lowering its hooded head toward Dudley's face as though about to kiss him...

"GET IT!" Harry bellowed as I hissed in parseltongue - after him - and with a rushing, roaring sound, the silver stag Harry had conjured galloped past him, as my own snake slithered menacingly forward. The dementor's eyeless face was barely an inch from Dudley's when the silver patronesses caught it; the thing was thrown up into the air and, like its fellows, soared away and was absorbed into the darkness. 

The stag cantered to the end of the alleyway and dissolved into silver mist as the snake made its way back to my side, eyes staring at me; only serving to remind me of whose blood ran through my veins.

Moon, stars, and streetlamps burst back into life. A warm breeze swept the alleyway as I watched the snake fade away. Trees rustled in neighboring gardens and the mundane rumble of cars in Magnolia Crescent filled the air again. I slinked towards Dudley; who was laying curled up on the ground, whimpering and shaking and poked his face with my snout. 

I could not believe what had just happened. Dementors here, in Little Whinging...this is what happens when the Minister of Magic is an idiot.

As Harry bent down to the two of us, we heard loud, running footsteps behind us. I crouched over Dudley snarling and swishing my tail protectively back and forth as Harry raised his wand again. 

Mrs. Figg, Harry's batty old neighbor who I had met the summer before my first year of Hogwarts, came panting into sight. Her grizzled gray hair was escaping from its hairnet, a clanking string shopping bag was swinging from her wrist, and her feet were halfway out of her tartan carpet slippers. 

Harry made to stow his wand hurriedly out of sight, but I didn't bother to disappear; knowing that Mrs. Figg wouldn't be surprised to see a wolf with blue eyes. 

I was currently remembering one of the name's my grandfather had mentioned at the end of last year. Mrs. Figg had been one of them, so my mind worked quickly to place where I had heard it recently - reaching a conclusion - one that Harry would learn soon. She must have something to do with the wizarding world in order for my grandfather to trust her - lucky her...I was related to him and even I was apparently unworthy of that honor.

"Don't put it away, idiot boy!" she shrieked as she winked at me. "What if there are more of them around? Oh, I'm going to kill Mundungus Fletcher!"

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In-Line Comments

\- Omg Kat finally knows! Not sure if I'll eventually do a flashback to their actual conversation but for now wanted to leave it a little up in the air to give me room to play around with what she actually knows and doesnt know. I'm thinking that for now she still wont know that her memory was erased when she was 5.  
\- Let me know what you thought of the first chapter of the 5th installment!


	97. Popcorn, Butterbeer, & Howlers

Katrina's POV

What?" said Harry blankly. I just watched them, wondering how Mrs. Figg had known where we were and about the Dementors.

"He left!" said Mrs. Figg, wringing her hands. "Left to see someone about a batch of cauldrons that fell off the back of a broom! I told him I'd flay him alive if he went, and now look! Dementors! It's just lucky I put Mr. Tibbies on the case! But we haven't got time to stand around! Hurry, now, we've got to get you back! Oh, the trouble this is going to cause! I will kill him!"

"But -" said Harry in surprise.  "You're — you're a witch?" I looked up, wanting to know the answer as well.

"I'm a Squib, as Mundungus knows full well, so how on earth was I supposed to help you fight off dementors? He left you two completely without cover when I warned him -"

I froze, thinking back over the summer to all the times I had sworn I had felt someone watching and following me. I had thought I was out of my mind, never seeing anyone when I looked over my shoulder.

"This bloke Mundungus has been following me?" I said furiously as I quickly reverted back to human. 

Mrs. Figg opened her mouth but Harry interrupted.

"Hang on - it was him! He Disapparated from the front of my house!" So...we had both had this Mundungus person watching our every move this summer? I seethed. I did not like this one bit. There was a reason I had left the castle! I needed space to come to terms with everything, but how was I supposed to do that when I couldn't go anywhere without my grandfather sending someone to watch over me. I knew he was doing it to make sure I was safe...but I was too mad to care just now...

"Yes, yes, yes, but luckily I'd stationed Mr. Tibbies under a car just in case, and Mr. Tibbies came and warned me, but by the time I got to Harry's house you'd gone - and now - oh, what's Dumbledore going to say? You!" she shrieked at Dudley, still supine on the alley floor. "Get your fat bottom off the ground, quick!" I laughed at her words to Dudley, but frowned as she confirmed my suspicions about knowing my grandfather.

"You know Dumbledore?" said Harry, staring at her. I stayed quiet, not wanting to say anything that I would regret.

"Of course I know Dumbledore, who doesn't know Dumbledore? But come on - I'll be no help if they come back, I've never so much as Transfigured a teabag -" She stooped down, seized one of Dudley's massive arms in her wizened hands, and tugged.

"Get up, you useless lump, get up!" 

But Dudley either could not or would not move. He was still on the ground, trembling and ashen-faced, his mouth shut very tight.

"I'll do it." Harry said. I went over to help him, and together we took hold of Dudley's arm and heaved: with an enormous effort we managed to hoist Dudley to his feet. 

"Hurry up!" said Mrs. Figg hysterically.

I pulled one of Dudley's massive arms around my shoulders as Harry did the same with the other. We dragged him toward the road, sagging slightly under his weight. Mrs. Figg tottered along in front of us, peering anxiously around the corner.

"Keep your wands out," she told Harry and I, as we entered Wisteria Walk. I bent down and retrieved mine from my boot. Not bothering to tell her that I hardly needed mine out to do magic. I figured being a Squib was hard enough without me coming along talking about not even needing my wand...

"Never mind the Statute of Secrecy now, there's going to be hell to pay anyway, we might as well be hanged for a dragon as an egg. Talk about the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery...This was exactly what Dumbledore was afraid of - don't put your wand away, boy, don't I keep telling you I'm no use?" I grimaced as I looked at Harry. Knowing why he kept trying to put his wand away.

It was not easy to hold a wand steady and carry Dudley along at the same time. I was currently having the same problem.

"Why didn't you tell me you're a Squib?" Harry asked Mrs. Figg, panting with the effort to keep walking. "All those times I came round your house - that time I introduced you to Kat, why didn't you say anything?"

"Dumbledore's orders. I was to keep an eye on you two but not say anything, you were too young. And then Katrina left the orphanage and I'm sorry I gave you such a miserable time, but the Dursleys would never have let you come if they'd thought you enjoyed it. I just wish that Orphanage would have let you visit those times I asked. It wasn't easy, you know...But oh my word," she said tragically, wringing her hands once more, "when Dumbledore hears about this - how could Mundungus have left, he was supposed to be on duty until midnight - where is he? How am I going to tell Dumbledore what's happened, I can't Apparate -"

I blinked at Mrs. Figg. She had asked the Orphanage if I could visit her? When had that happened? Why hadn't they let me? I bet it was Mrs. Templeton and her ridiculous rules. Or just because she didn't like me and didn't want me meeting anyone from outside of the Orphanage...

"I've got an owl, you can borrow her," Harry groaned as we sagged under Dudley's weight. I sighed, missing my own owl, Salazar. I had left him at Hogwarts, not wanting to drag him down with me.

"Harry, you don't understand! Dumbledore will need to act as quickly as possible, the Ministry have their own ways of detecting underage magic, they'll know already, you mark my words -"

"But we were getting rid of dementors, we had to use magic - they're going to be more worried what dementors were doing floating around Wisteria Walk, surely?" Harry argued...I just shook my head. Knowing Fudge's attitude towards us lately, this wasn't going to end well...

"Oh my dear, I wish it were so but I'm afraid - MUNDUNGUS FLETCHER, I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"

There was a loud crack and a strong smell of mingled drink and stale tobacco filled the air as a squat, unshaven man in a tattered overcoat materialized right in front of us. He was clutching a silvery bundle that I recognized at once as an Invisibility Cloak.

"'S' up, Figgy?" he said, staring from Mrs. Figg to Harry, to me, then Dudley. "What 'appened to staying undercover?"

"I'll give you undercover!" cried Mrs. Figg. "Dementors, you useless, skiving sneak thief!"

"Dementors?" repeated Mundungus, aghast. "Dementors here?"

"Yes, here, you worthless pile of bat droppings, here!" shrieked Mrs. Figg. "Dementors attacking the boy and girl on your watch! Dumbledore's going to turn you into a toad for this! You know how important she is to him!" I glanced at Mrs. Figg. Is she talking about me? Because it certainly didn't seem like my grandfather cared all that much lately! Almost two months had gone by and I hadn't heard a single word from him.

"Blimey," said Mundungus weakly, looking from Mrs. Figg to Harry and I, and back again. 

"Blimey, I..."

"And you off buying stolen cauldrons! Didn't I tell you not to go? Didn't I?"

"I - well, I -" Mundungus looked deeply uncomfortable. "It...it was a very good business opportunity, see..."

Mrs. Figg raised the arm from which her string bag dangled and whacked Mundungus around the face and neck with it; judging by the clanking noise it made it was full of cat food. I laughed. Go, Mrs. Figg!

"Ouch - gerroff - gerroff, you mad old bat! Someone's gotta tell Dumbledore!"

"Yes - they - have!" yelled Mrs. Figg, still swinging the bag of cat food at every bit of Mundungus she could reach. I cheered her on. Enjoying the sight immensely. "And - it - had - better - be - you - and - you - can - tell - him - why - you - weren't - there - to - help!"

"Keep your 'airnet on!" said Mundungus, his arms over his head, cowering. "I'm going, I'm going!"

And with another loud crack, he vanished.

"I hope Dumbledore murders him!" said Mrs. Figg furiously. "Now come on, you two, what are you waiting for?"

Neither Harry or I decided to waste our remaining breath on pointing out that we could barely walk under Dudley's bulk. I gave the semiconscious Dudley a heave and staggered onward.

"I'll take you to the door," said Mrs. Figg, as we turned into Privet Drive. "Just in case there are more of them around...Oh my word, what a catastrophe...and you two had to fight them off yourselves...and Dumbledore said we were to keep you from doing magic at all costs...Well, it's no good crying over spilled potion, I suppose...but the cat's among the pixies now..."

"So," I panted, "My grandfather's...been having...me followed?" 

"Of course he has," said Mrs. Figg impatiently. "Did you expect him to let you wander around on your own after what happened in June? And what with you deciding to run off in the middle of the night, girl! What were you thinking! Your grandfather was worried sick about you! Good Lord, they told me you were intelligent...Right...get inside and stay there," she said as we reached number four. "I expect someone will be in touch with you soon enough."

"What are you going to do?" asked Harry quickly. I on the other hand, was glowering at Mrs. Figg. Who was she to tell me I wasn't smart. I had stacks of exams with perfect scores to say otherwise! And I guarantee she would have done the same thing if our roles had been reversed! Harry had looked over to me with worry-filled eyes when Mrs. Figg had mentioned me running away - which seemed to becoming a dangerous trend for me - but I just waved him off, hoping that he'd forget to ask me about it.

"I'm going straight home," said Mrs. Figg, staring around the dark street and shuddering. "I'll need to wait for more instructions. Just stay in the house. Good night."

"Hang on, don't go yet! I want to know -"

But Mrs. Figg had already set off at a trot, carpet slippers flopping, string bag clanking.

"Wait!" Harry and I shouted after her; I had a million questions to ask about what my grandfather was up to now; but within seconds Mrs. Figg was swallowed by the darkness. 

Scowling, Harry readjusted Dudley on his shoulder and made his slow, painful way up number four's garden path.

At this point, I stopped, knowing it would be a very bad idea for me to go in there with Harry and Dudley. I gave Harry an apologetic look as I morphed back into a wolf and waved a paw towards the kitchen window, to let him know that I would be over there keeping an eye out and would help if he needed it. 

I then plodded off towards said window, noticing that the hall light was on. Ohhh, this is going to be interesting! 

I watched from my spot under the kitchen window, which had an excellent view of the living room and front door, as Harry's Aunt opened the door, then called out to her husband in sheer panic. Relax, woman! The great lump of a son you have will be fine once he stops being a whimp...then again, that might never happen, so maybe you are right to be worried...

My tail shook with laughter as I watched Harry's cousin open his mouth, only to vommit immediately all over the floor. The look on the Uncle's face as he stepped over the puddle of sick and helped his son into one of the living room sofas was priceless. I still remembered how rude he had been to me when he had given me a ride to the train station in our first year, and had to admit, that I was pleased to see the man so discomfited. I giggled as Petunia flapped around her son, asking him ridiculous questions like if someone had given him foreign tea...that's so prejudiced...and what possible harm could tea really do!...she then shreaked about calling the police - as if they would be able to help - the police were not equipped to handle anything like this. 

In all the kerfuffle - and isn't that such an awesome word - nobody seemed to have noticed Harry.

I watched him slip inside just before Uncle Vernon slammed the door; and while the Dursley parents freaked out over their son, move carefully and quietly toward the stairs.

He's so screwed! I thought - not able to help but be entertained as I watched Dudley point Harry out to his parents - and then as Uncle Vernon dragged Harry back to the living room. Am I a horrible friend for finding this hilarious? I just wished I had some popcorn...oh, wait. I'm a witch...

"What did he do to you, Diddy?" Aunt Petunia was saying in a quavering voice, now sponging sick from the front of Dudley's leather jacket. "Was it - was it you-know-what, darling? Did he use - his thing?"

I couldn't contain the howl of laughter that erupted at her choice of words as I spat out a mouthful of my recently conjured popcorn into a rose bush. Fortunately, only Harry seemed to have noticed and he sent me a quick grin and a sly wink - cheeky bastard - before his face turned red with embarrassment. He motioned for me to lower my head as I winked back at him.

I glanced up, trying not to go crosseyed...My ears and eyes must be visible over the window sill. I rolled my eyes at my friend. These people were too clueless to notice something as insignificant as me and my wolffish self peering at them through their kitchen window!

 

But at that precise moment a screech owl swooped in over my head and through the open window and I had to flatten myself down on the ground to avoid being noticed. I carefully raised myself up to see if the coast was clear.

"OWLS!" bellowed Uncle Vernon, the well-worn vein in his temple pulsing angrily as he slammed the kitchen window shut. "OWLS AGAIN! I WILL NOT HAVE ANY MORE OWLS IN MY HOUSE!" 

What is this man's problem with owls?! As the owl swooped back out of the window, it dropped a second envelope on top of my head. I scowled at the owl, thinking Vernon may have a point regarding this particular one.

Dear Ms. Dumbledore,

We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm at twenty-three minutes past nine this evening in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the presence of a Muggle. 

In addition, it has come to our attention that you are an unregistered Animagus. The severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery along with your failure to register yourself as an Animagus has resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand.

We regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 a.m. on August 12th.

Hoping you are well, 

Yours sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

Improper Use of Magic Office

Ministry of Magic

 

I read the letter through twice. I laughed at the part about a representative calling at my current place of residence. Where would that be exactly...this bush? I was worried about the expulsion though. I knew that they didn't have the power to actually do so, but I was still worried, knowing that they wouldn't have dared say such a thing under normal circumstances. I sensed a change for the worse within the Ministry. As for my wand, it would be a shame if they really destroyed it, but thankfully, it wasn't essential for me to have, like most other witches and wizards.

A sudden movement inside the house drew my attention and I looked up in time to see Harry pull his wand out and turn to leave the kitchen.

"Where d'you think you're going?" yelled Uncle Vernon, pounding across the kitchen to block the doorway into the hall. "I haven't finished with you, boy!"

"Get out of the way," I heard Harry say quietly.

"You're going to stay here and explain how my son -" I watched as the two of them argued back and forth, struggling to hear, now that the window had been shut. I heard a flapping sound above my head and just managed to dive out of the way as a barn owl collided with the window. 

Ignoring Uncle Vernon's anguished yell of "OWLS!" Harry crossed the room at a run and wrenched the window open again. I helped the owl up as Harry reached out and took one of the letters the owl was carrying. The other had my name on it and I quickly took mine as the owl flew off - lopsided.

Katrina -

Your grandfather has just arrived at the Ministry, and he's trying to sort it all out. We know you are with Harry right now. DO NOT LET HIM LEAVE HIS AUNT AND UNCLE'S HOUSE. DO NOT DO ANY MORE MAGIC. DO NOT SURRENDER YOUR WAND.

Arthur Weasley

My grandfather was trying to sort it all out...What did that mean? How much power did my grandfather have to override the Ministry of Magic when they had stopped listening to him. 

A small shoot of hope burgeoned in my chest, almost immediately strangled by panic - as I remembered how my grandfather had been lying to me my whole life - how was I supposed to refuse to surrender my wand without doing magic? And how was I supposed to keep Harry here at his relatives when he didn't want to stay? I remember him telling me the story of how he'd run away at the beginning of our third year and I did not currently desire to resemble a blimp...

Also, why the bloody hell was it my responsibility to look out for Harry! What about me? Guess it's up to me to look out for myself, just like always.

I watched as Harry flung himself down at the kitchen table and faced Dudley and Aunt Petunia. The Dursleys appeared taken aback at his abrupt change of mind but I figured it was because his letter from Mr. Weasley had also warned him to stay put. I was glad he seemed to be listening to the direction, happy that I might not have to intervene.

Aunt Petunia glanced despairingly at Uncle Vernon. I munched on some more of my popcorn as I watched the vein in Uncle Vernon's purple temple throb worse than ever. 

From the look and sound of things, Harry was explaining to them why he had "decided" to stay where he was and about the Ministry of Magic expelling him.

Then Dudley began to share his wildly inaccurate tale of the evening's events.

"So," said Uncle Vernon; as Dudley finished telling his parents about how he had started hearing voices and how he had felt the effects as the dementors sucked the joy from his life, his voice restored to full and considerable volume as he straightened up. "So you put some crackpot spell on my son so he'd hear voices and believe he was - was doomed to misery, or something, did you?"

"How many times do I have to tell you?" said Harry, temper and voice rising together. "It wasn't me! It was a couple of dementors!"

Harry tried to explain about Dementors but I could tell no one was comprehending let alone believing him.

"A couple of - what's this codswallop?"

"They guard the wizard prison, Azkaban," said Aunt Petunia. How the bloody hell does she know about Dementors? Harry had told me his Aunt and Uncle knew nothing about the wizarding world. 

"How d'you know that?" I heard Harry ask her, astonished.

From my spot by the window, I could see that Aunt Petunia looked quite appalled with herself. She was glancing at Uncle Vernon in fearful apology, then lowered her hand slightly to reveal her horsey teeth.

"I heard - that awful boy - telling her about them - years ago," she said jerkily, referring to Harry's dad I assumed.

"If you mean my mum and dad, why don't you use their names?" said Harry loudly, but Aunt Petunia ignored him. She seemed horribly flustered.

Uncle Vernon opened his mouth, closed it again, opened it once more, shut it, then, apparently struggling to remember how to talk, opened it for a third time and croaked, "So - so - they - er - they - er - they actually exist, do they - er - dementy-whatsits?" I spat out another mouthful of popcorn.

Aunt Petunia nodded.

Uncle Vernon looked from Aunt Petunia to Dudley to Harry as if hoping somebody was going to shout "April Fool!" I was seriously considering it, but I eventually decided it was for the best for me to stay hidden. What a shame to have to miss an opportunity like that, though...

More flapping...seriously? Another owl? 

"Enough - effing - owls..." muttered Uncle Vernon distractedly, stomping over to the window and slamming it shut again. For once, I had to agree with him as I tore open yet another official looking envelope.

Dear Ms. Dumbledore,

Further to our letter of approximately twenty-two minutes ago, the Ministry of Magic has revised its decision to destroy your wand forthwith. You may retain your wand until your disciplinary hearing on 12th August, at which time an official decision will be taken.

Following discussions with the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Ministry has agreed that the question of your expulsion will also be decided at that time. You should therefore consider yourself suspended from school pending further inquiries.

With best wishes,

Yours sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

Improper Use of Magic Office

Ministry of Magic

I read this letter through three times in quick succession. The miserable knot in my chest loosened slightly at the thought that I had been right about them not being able to just expel Harry and I from Hogwarts that easily, but my fears were by no means banished. Everything seemed to hang on this hearing on the twelfth of August.

I watched as Harry got up to leave, only for Vernon to start yelling at him to tell him what had happened to Dudley.

"But what ARE dementoids?" asked Uncle Vernon furiously. "What do they DO?" More popcorn landed in the rose bush. I wonder how many times he's going to get their name wrong...if I were allowed to drink, I'd totally make a drinking game out of this!

"I told you - they suck all the happiness out of you," said Harry, "and if they get the chance, they kiss you -"

"Kiss you?" said Uncle Vernon, his eyes popping slightly. "Kiss you?" If popcorn weren't so yummy, I'd stop eating it; considering the fact that more than half the bag was now in the poor rosebush.

"Fought 'em off, did you, son?" said Uncle Vernon loudly, with the appearance of a man struggling to bring the conversation back onto a plane he understood. "Gave 'em the old one-two, did you?"

"You can't give a dementor the old one-two," said Harry through clenched teeth as I fought the urge to burst in and tell that man what a pathetic excuse for a worm he had for a son.

WHOOSH. With a clattering, a whirring of wings, and a soft fall of dust, a fourth owl came shooting out of the kitchen fireplace and then out of the window. Bloody owls...and here I was talking about how amazing they were just moments before. But I was getting really tired of letters hitting me in the head...

"FOR GOD'S SAKE!" roared Uncle Vernon, pulling great clumps of hair out of his mustache. "I WILL NOT HAVE OWLS HERE, I WILL NOT TOLERATE THIS, I TELL YOU!"

But I stopped paying attention, more focused on opening the latest letter. I was so convinced that this letter had to be from my grandfather explaining everything - the dementors, Mrs. Figg, what the Ministry was up to, how he, Dumbledore, intended to sort everything out - an apology for lying to me etc etc.

But for the first time in my life I was disappointed to see Sirius's handwriting. 

Arthur's just told us what's happened. Don't you dare run off again, whatever you do.

I found this such an inadequate response to everything that had happened tonight that I turned the piece of parchment over, looking for the rest of the letter, but there was nothing there.

And now my temper was rising again. Wasn't anybody going to say "well done" for fighting off two dementors single-handedly; four, if you counted the ones Harry had helped with? Who did Sirius think he was, demanding that I stay here. He wasn't my father! He couldn't tell me what to do anymore!

Both Mr. Weasley and Sirius were acting as though I'd misbehaved and they were saving their tellings-off until they could ascertain how much damage had been done.

"I want the truth about what happened tonight!" barked Uncle Vernon.

"Katrina and I did the Patronus Charm to get rid of the dementors - you met her once when you dropped us off at the train station our first year," I heard Harry say, subtly glancing over at me. "A Patronus is the only thing that works against them."

"But what were dementoids doing in Little Whinging?" said Uncle Vernon in tones of outrage. Shot! I really wished I could drink already. I conjured up a bottle of Butterbeer and took a mighty gulp. What? Can't a girl pretend for a moment!

"Couldn't tell you," said Harry wearily. "No idea."

At these words of Uncle Vernon's, my exhausted brain ground back into action. Why had the dementors come to Little Whinging? How could it be coincidence that they had arrived in the alleyway where Harry was? Had they been sent? Had the Ministry of Magic lost control of the dementors, had they deserted Azkaban and joined Voldemort, as my grandfather had predicted they would?

"These demembers guard some weirdos' prison?" said Uncle Vernon. Drink! I thought, taking another large sip of my Butterbeer and laughing at Vernon's ridiculous idea that the Dementor's were after Harry in order to arrest him for running from the law.

"Of course I'm not," said Harry, shaking his head.

"Then why -?"

"He must have sent them," said Harry quietly - I guessed who he was referring to...my father...

"What's that? Who must have sent them?"

"Lord Voldemort," said Harry. The man who spawned me...I glared at my friend. How could he have not found a way to tell me! I was smart...it wasn't like he couldn't have put hints out there for me to catch on to!

"Lord - hang on," said Uncle Vernon, his face screwed up, a look of dawning comprehension in his piggy eyes. "I've heard that name...that was the one who..."

"Murdered my parents, yes, Kat's mum as well," Harry said. I paled as I suddenly had an epiphany about that fateful night.

My...um...the sperm donor...had killed my mother. When grandfather had talked about the evil act causing the death spell to rebound, he hadn't simply been addressing the issue of a man attempting to kill a mother protecting her baby, but of a father killing his daughter's mother...that was why my mum's soul lingered on in Buckbeak's while Harry's parents had "moved on" or whatever...my head was reeling. This was all too much. I REALLY wish this was alcoholic! I said, looking down at the Butterbeer. Maybe this is why minors weren't allowed to drink until they were of age...

"Back?" I heard Aunt Petunia whisper.

"Yes," Harry said, talking directly to Aunt Petunia now. "He came back a month ago. Kat and I saw him."

"Hang on," said Uncle Vernon, looking from his wife to Harry and back again, apparently dazed and confused by the unprecedented understanding that seemed to have sprung up between them. "Hang on. This Lord Voldything's back, you say."

"Yes."

"The one who murdered your parents."

"Yes."

"And now he's sending dismembers after you and your friend?" I took another swig of Butterbeer. Will he ever get it right?!

"Looks like it," said Harry.

"Well, that settles it," Vernon said, his shirt front straining as he inflated himself, "you can get out of this house, boy!"

"What?" said Harry. I growled under my breath, having flashbacks to when Mrs. Templeton had kicked me out three summers ago.

"You heard me — OUT!" Uncle Vernon bellowed, and even Aunt Petunia and Dudley jumped. "OUT! OUT! I should've done it years ago! Owls treating the place like a rest home, puddings exploding, half the lounge destroyed, Dudley's tail, Marge bobbing around on the ceiling, and that flying Ford Anglia — OUT! OUT! You've had it! You're history! You're not staying here if some loony's after you and your friend, you're not endangering my wife and son, you're not bringing trouble down on us, if you're going the same way as your useless parents, I've had it! OUT!" I got to my feet, uncurling my tail, waiting to see what would happen next, prepared to jump in and help my friend if he needed me.

Harry stood rooted to the spot. 

"You heard me! Marge was right, it should have been the orphanage, we were too damn soft for our own good, thought we could squash it out of you, thought we could turn you normal, but you've been rotten from the beginning, and I've had enough — OWLS!" I wished you HAD sent him to the Orphanage! At least we would have had each other for company. Things could have been way better for the both of us!

A fifth owl zoomed down the chimney so fast it actually hit the floor before zooming into the air again with a loud screech. Harry raised his hand to seize the letter before running to open the window so that I could get mine as well.

These two were in scarlet envelopes, but they soared straight over our heads, one flying directly at Aunt Petunia while the other hovered over my head. I quickly formed a fireball in one of my paws and sent it flying at the letter above my head. It burst into flames. I could make a business at Hogwarts destroying people's howlers - assuming Harry and I are allowed back - I couldn't help thinking - not that I would actually do so.

Harry darted forward to pick up his letter, but Aunt Petunia beat him to it.

"Let go of it, Petunia!" roared Uncle Vernon. "Don't touch it, it could be dangerous!"

"It's addressed to me," said Aunt Petunia in a shaking voice. "It's addressed to me, Vernon, look! 

Mrs. Petunia Dursley,   
The Kitchen,   
Number Four,   
Privet Drive -"

She caught her breath, horrified. The red envelope had begun to smoke.

"Open it!" Harry urged her. "Get it over with! It'll happen anyway -"

"No -" - the envelope burst into flames. Aunt Petunia screamed and dropped it.

An awful voice filled the kitchen, echoing in the confined space, issuing from the burning letter on the table.

"REMEMBER MY LAST, PETUNIA."

I blinked, was that my grandfather's voice? I see, so he bothers to send Harry's Aunt a letter pretty much demanding that she let Harry stay - if I was interpreting the context clues correctly - but yet, no word to me? 

I almost regretted sending my own Howler up in flames, but figured it was just my grandfather telling the Dursley's to let me also stay, considering they all seemed to think I was actually in the house with Harry.

"You're to stay in your room," I heard Aunt Petunia say as she turned to Harry, "You're not to leave the house. Now get to bed."

Harry didn't move. I could tell he wanted to know who the Howler was from. I rolled my eyes. How did he not know the sound of my grandfather's voice after all this time? 

"Harry, just get to your room, now isn't the time to argue with them! I'll just stay here outside, but ya know, if you could sneak me a midnight snack later when they've gone to bed, I wouldn't say no..." I told Harry using my mental speech - nah, that sounded lame, but I had no idea what else to call it. Telepathy? 

My stomach grumbled. I really hoped that Harry was able to help with that...

********************************************

In-Line Comments

\- Let me know what you think of this latest  
chapter!   
\- Should I just call it Telepathy or does anyone else have any other suggestions?  
\- Don't worry Kat isn't going to become a drunk. Unless enough people want to see that when the time comes around in the later books.  
\- For those of you reading the Wattpad version, I shall leave you with a photo I recently took of my crazed Siberian Husky, Akira. Which is who I picture when I think of Kat as a dog/wolf. If you can't tell from the pic, she loves that toy. lol


	98. The Advanced Guard

Katrina's POV

When Harry got to his room he immediately opened the window and I clambered up the side of the house and into the bedroom, deciding to switch to a more pet friendly form of a wolf, knowing how much Harry liked my Husky form; which would raise a lot less questions if I was discovered.

I watched as he scribbled notes out to Sirius, Ron, and Hermione - shaking my head but not saying anything. I thought he was wasting his time. I had tried sending letters to them all summer long, but hadn't gotten a single reply. I had a sneaking suspicion my grandfather was behind their lack of response, but I was just guessing at this point. 

I glanced at Harry as he kicked his school trunk as he passed it - he was pacing back and forth across his room - upset about the lack of communication lately. I had to agree with him; but that didn't mean I was going to kick inanimate objects...

Just as Harry limped past the window, Hedwig soared through it with a soft rustle of wings like a small ghost.

"About time!" Harry snarled, as she landed lightly on top of her cage. "You can put that down, I've got work for you!" I shook my head.  
What was with him and snapping at Hedwig when he was mad? 

Hedwig's large round amber eyes gazed reproachfully at him over the dead frog clamped in her beak.

"Come here," said Harry, picking up the three small rolls of parchment and a leather thong and tying the scrolls to her scaly leg. "Take these straight to Sirius, Ron, and Hermione and don't come back here without good long replies. Keep pecking them till they've written decent-length answers if you've got to. Understand?"

Hedwig gave a muffled hooting noise, beak still full of frog before taking off. The moment she'd gone, Harry threw himself down onto his bed without undressing and stared at the dark ceiling. I plodded over to him and curled up at the foot of his bed, covering his feet and legs with my warm fur.

I sighed, knowing that Harry was most likely expecting to get a response by the next morning - I didn't think it was likely and felt sorry in advance for my friend as I watched him fall asleep.

********************************************

As I had predicted Hedwig didn't return next morning. Harry and I spent the day in his bedroom, leaving it only to go to the bathroom. 

Three times that day Aunt Petunia shoved food into his room through the cat flap Uncle Vernon must have installed a while back. Every time Harry heard her approaching he tried to question her about the Howler, but he might as well have interrogated the doorknob for all the answers he got. 

As for me, I was just glad that Harry was willing to share his meals with me. I hadn't had much to eat over the last month and a half. I had survived as Sirius once had, off the scraps and handouts that I could manage to find. But it was better in my opinion than staying at Hogwarts where everyone had been lying to me...

Other than stopping by to drop off Harry's meals, the Dursley's kept well away from him - and so it went on for three whole days. 

I sat nervously watching as Harry paced his bedroom again, furious at the whole lot of our friends and acquaintances for leaving us to stew in this mess. When he wasn't pacing, we would lie on his bed for an hour at a time, staring dazedly into space, aching with dread at the thought of the Ministry hearing.

What if they ruled against us? What if we were expelled and our wands were snapped in half? What would Harry do? Would he end up resenting me for still having my magic?

On the fourth night after Hedwig's departure Harry was lying in one of his apathetic phases, staring at the ceiling, his exhausted mind quite blank, when his uncle entered his bedroom to tell him they were going out. I had to dive quickly under Harry's bed in order  
to avoid being seen by his uncle!

We stared after him as he left; locking the door behind him.

I eventually got out from under the bed, choosing to sit on Harry's bed and hash out my issues with him. I needed to know why he had kept my father a secret from me and a part of me needed to be reassured that he didn't hate me for being the spawn of the vile man who had murdered his parents. We talked and talked as the room grew steadily darker around us until the air was finally clear between us. 

I sighed in relief; happy that at least that area of my life made sense again.

I lay down next to Harry, listening to the night sounds through his window.

The empty house creaked around us. The pipes gurgled. I lay there in a kind of stupor, trying not to think about anything. I may have forgiven Harry, but I wasn't ready to forgive my grandfather...or Sirius just yet...

And then, quite distinctly, we heard a crash in the kitchen below.

Harry and I sat bolt upright, listening intently. The Dursleys couldn't be back, it was much too soon, and I hadn't heard their car.

There was silence for a few seconds, and then we heard voices.

Harry snatched up his wand from his bedside table and stood facing his bedroom door while I formed a fire and ice ball in the palm of my hand. 

Next moment the lock gave a loud click and Harry's door swung open.

I stood motionless, staring through the open door at the dark upstairs landing, giving myself bat ears so that I could listen for further sounds, but none came. 

I hesitated for a moment and then moved swiftly and silently out of Harry's room to the head of the stairs; Harry, close behind me.

There were people standing in the shadowy hall below, silhouetted against the streetlight glowing through the glass door; eight or nine of them, all, as far as I could see, looking up at us.

"Lower your wand, boy, before you take someone's eye out, and get rid of your fire and ice, girl," said a low, growling voice.

"Professor Moody?" I said uncertainly.

"I don't know so much about 'Professor,' " growled the voice, "never got round to much teaching, did I? Get down here, we want to see you two properly."

Harry lowered his wand slightly but did not relax his grip on it, nor did he move. Neither did I extinguish my powerball as I liked to call it.

I had very good reason to be suspicious. Harry and I had recently spent nine months in what we had thought was Mad-Eye Moody's company only to find out that it wasn't Moody at all, but an impostor; an impostor, moreover, who had tried to kill us before being unmasked. 

But before I could make a decision about what to do next, a second, slightly hoarse voice floated upstairs.

"It's all right, Harry. Katrina. We've come to take you away."

My heart leapt. I knew that voice too, though I hadn't heard it for more than a year. It belonged to my other godfather. Someone I couldn't be mad at for not telling me the truth. Lupin had his own demons to deal with besides having to worry about me hating him. I couldn't be mad at Snape either for that same reason. I was just happy to see him alive and safe. 

"Remy!" I shouted in joy as I ran over to him and hugged him.

"Why are we all standing in the dark?" said a third voice, this one completely unfamiliar, a woman's. "Lumos."

A wand tip flared, illuminating the hall with magical light. I blinked. The people below were crowded around the foot of the stairs, gazing intently up at Harry and I, some craning their heads for a better look.

I scrutinized my godfather. Though still quite young, Remy looked tired and rather ill; he had more gray hair than when I had said good-bye to him, and his robes were more patched and shabbier than ever. Nevertheless, he was smiling broadly at me.

"Oooh, they look just like I thought they would," said the witch who was holding her lit wand aloft. She looked the youngest there; she had a pale heart-shaped face, dark twinkling eyes, and short spiky hair that was a violent shade of violet. "Wotcher, Harry! Katrina!"

"Yeah, I see what you mean, Remus," said a bald black wizard standing farthest back; he had a deep, slow voice and wore a single gold hoop in his ear. "He looks exactly like James and she looks like Eliana!"

"Except the eyes," said a wheezy-voiced, silver-haired wizard at the back. "Lily's eyes."

I closed my eyes and leaned into my godfather's side. I didn't want to listen to talk about my mum. Not now after I knew the truth.  I didn't blame her, god no, but it was too hard to listen to people talk about my family right now...

"Are you quite sure it's them, Lupin?" he growled. "It'd be a nice lookout if we bring back some Death Eaters impersonating them. We ought to ask them something only the real Potter and Dumbledore would know. Unless anyone brought any Veritaserum?"

"Harry, Kat, dear, what forms do your Patronuses - Patronusi? - take?" said Lupin.

"A stag," said Harry nervously.

I just blinked at my godfather. "I don't know, mine keeps changing?"

"That's them, Mad-Eye," said Lupin.

Lupin held out his hand and shook Harry's while he gave my shoulder a squeeze.

"How are you?" he asked, looking at Harry closely.

"F-fine..."

My godfather than looked at me and bent down to my ear.

"Your father and grandfather have been worried sick about you, little one! I must say, you have been giving them quite the fright."

"Which father are you referring to?" I said darkly, not able to help the venom in my voice. Lupin winced.

"He may not be related by blood, but that man loves you as any father would and your grandfather was only doing what he thought was best for you!" 

"I know," I said slowly, bitterness lacing my tongue despite the fact that I knew his words to be true. As any father would...HA! Not my actual father...he doesn't love anyone!

I glanced at the people surrounding Lupin; they were still gazing avidly at Harry and I. I felt very conscious of the fact that I had not combed my hair for almost two months...

"I'm - you're really lucky the Dursleys are out..." Harry mumbled.

Turns out, the violet-haired woman was the one who had gotten them out of the house.

"We are leaving, aren't we?" I asked. "Soon?"

"Almost at once," said Lupin, "we're just waiting for the all-clear." 

"Where are we going? The Burrow?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Not the Burrow, no," said my godfather, motioning Harry and I toward the kitchen; the little knot of wizards followed, all still eyeing us curiously. "Too risky. We've set up headquarters somewhere undetectable. It's taken a while..."

"This is Alastor Moody, Kat, Harry," Lupin continued, pointing toward Moody.

"Yeah, I know," I said, uncomfortably; it felt odd to be introduced to somebody I'd thought I'd known for a year.

"And this is Nymphadora -"

"Don't call me Nymphadora, Remus," said the young witch with a shudder. "It's Tonks."

"- Nymphadora Tonks, who prefers to be known by her surname only," finished Lupin.

"So would you if your fool of a mother had called you 'Nymphadora,' " muttered Tonks. I looked at her as her hair changed to a furious orange. Is she a metamorphmagus?! How cool! I had to talk to her later!

"And this is Kingsley Shacklebolt" - he indicated the tall black wizard, who bowed - "Elphias Doge" - the wheezy-voiced wizard nodded - "Dedalus Diggle -"

There were a bunch of other names, but I didn't remember a single one.

I just wished they would look at something other than me; it was as though I had suddenly been ushered onstage. I also wondered why so many of them were there.

"A surprising number of people volunteered to come and get you two," said Remy, as though he had read my mind; the corners of his mouth twitched slightly.

"Yeah, well, the more the better," said Moody darkly. "We're your guard."

"We're just waiting for the signal to tell us it's safe to set off," said Lupin, glancing out of the kitchen window. "We've got about fifteen minutes."

Harry and I tried to ask what Voldemort had been up to - it was hard to stay caught up on the news when you were on the run and in wolf form - but Moody just told us to shut up.

"How're we getting - wherever we're going?" I asked.

"Brooms," said Lupin. "Only way. You're too young to Apparate, they'll be watching the Floo Network, and it's more than our life's worth to set up an unauthorized Portkey - Anyway, you'd better go and get packed, we want to be ready to go when the signal comes."

"My stuff is all right here, I said showing him my bag and reaching down to slowly pull out my Firebolt from the depths as Harry and Tonks went to go pack up Harry's things.

"Excellent," said Lupin, looking up as Tonks and Harry reentered. "We've got about a minute, I think. Harry, I've left a letter telling your aunt and uncle not to worry -"

"They won't," said Harry.

"That you're safe -"

"That'll just depress them."

"- and you'll see them next summer." 

"Do I have to?"

I laughed out loud at their conversation while Lupin just smiled but made no answer.

"Come here, boy," said Moody gruffly, beckoning Harry toward him with his wand. "I need to Disillusion you."

He then looked at me.

"I can do it myself!" I said - I wasn't a Dumbledore for nothing! Apparently, being great at Disillusionment Charms was a family trait.

"Nice one, Kat," said Tonks appreciatively, staring at me. No one knowing I was standing in front of them would be able to spot me. It wasn't as full-proof as Harry's Invisibility cloak, but it was pretty darn close.

"Come on," said Moody, unlocking the back door with his wand. We all stepped outside onto Uncle Vernon's beautifully kept lawn.

"Clear night," grunted Moody, his magical eye scanning the heavens. "Could've done with a bit more cloud cover. We're going to be flying in close formation. Tonks'll be right in front of you, keep close on her tail. Lupin'll be covering you from below. I'm going to be behind you. The rest'll be circling us. We don't break ranks for anything, got me? If one of us is killed -"

"Is that likely?" Harry and I asked apprehensively, but Moody ignored us.

"- the others keep flying, don't stop, don't break ranks. If they take out all of us and you two survive, the rear guard are standing by to take over; keep flying east and they'll join you."

Well wasn't that uplifting...

"Mount your brooms, that's the first signal!" said Lupin sharply, pointing into the sky.

Far, far above us, a shower of bright red sparks had flared among the stars. 

I swung my right leg over my Firebolt, gripped its handle tightly, and felt it vibrating very slightly, as though it was as keen as I was to be up in the air once more.

"Second signal, let's go!" said Remy loudly, as more sparks, green this time, exploded high above us.

I kicked off hard from the ground. The cool night air rushed through my hair as the neat square gardens of Privet Drive fell away, shrinking rapidly into a patchwork of dark greens and blacks, and every thought of the Ministry hearing was swept from my mind as though the rush of air had blown it out of my head. 

********************************************

"Where are we?" I asked when we had finally touched down, but Lupin said quietly, "In a minute."

Moody was rummaging in his cloak, his gnarled hands clumsy with cold.

"Got it," he muttered, raising what looked like a silver cigarette lighter into the air and clicking it. I recognized it as one of the many trinkets my grandfather usually had lined up on his desk.

The nearest streetlamp went out with a pop. He clicked the unlighter again; the next lamp went out. He kept clicking until every lamp in the square was extinguished and the only light in the square came from curtained windows and the sickle moon overhead.

"Borrowed it from Dumbledore," growled Moody, pocketing the Put-Outer. "That'll take care of any Muggles looking out of the window, see? Now, come on, quick." I looked at Moody as he confirmed my suspicions about the clicker belonging to my grandfather. For some reason, I didn't like this fact.

He took Harry and I by the arm and led us from the patch of grass, across the road, and onto the pavement. Lupin and Tonks followed, carrying Harry's trunk between them, the rest of the guard, all with their wands out, flanking us.

The muffled pounding of a stereo was coming from an upper window in the nearest house. A pungent smell of rotting rubbish came from the pile of bulging bin-bags just inside the broken gate.

"Here," Moody muttered, thrusting a piece of parchment toward mime and Harry's Disillusioned hands and holding his lit wand close to it, so as to illuminate the writing.   
"Read quickly and memorize."

I looked down at the piece of paper. The narrow handwriting was my grandfather's. It said:

The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.

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In-Line Comments

\- Ok everyone, I just remembered that by allowing cedric to live, I need to figure out a believable reason for Harry and Kat to see the Theastrals when it comes up - though I'm thinking of having either Kat, or all of them, ride on Drake to get to the Ministry of Magic but I still kind of want them to be able to see the Theastrals so if anyone has any recommendations on how to work that in I'd greatly love to hear it! It's not for quite a few more chapters but wanted to get a head start on it.  
\- As always, comment what you thought of this latest chapter


	99. Number Twelve Grimmauld Place

Katrina's POV

What's the Order of the - ?" Harry began.

"Not here, boy!" snarled Moody. "Wait till we're inside!" He pulled the piece of parchment out of Harry's hand and set fire to it with his wand tip. I could have done that for  him without a wand...

As the message curled into flames and floated to the ground, I looked around at the houses again. We were standing outside number eleven; and I spotted number thirteen...where the bloody hell is number twelve?!

"But where's -?"

"Think about what you've just memorized," said Remy quietly. I thought, and no sooner had I reached the part about number twelve, Grimmauld Place, than a battered door emerged out of nowhere between numbers eleven and thirteen, followed swiftly by dirty walls and grimy windows.

"Come on, hurry," growled Moody, prodding Harry and I in the backs.

I  walked up the worn stone steps, staring at the newly materialized door. 

"Get in quick, Kat, dear," Remy whispered. "But don't go far inside and don't touch anything."

I stepped over the threshold into the almost total darkness of the hall and made myself visible again as the others filed in behind me and Moody returned the balls of light to their homes.

"Now stay still, everyone, while I give us a bit of light in here," Moody whispered.

There were hurried footsteps and Ron's mother, Mrs. Weasley, emerged from a door at the far end of the hall. She was beaming in welcome as she hurried toward us, though I noticed that she was rather thinner and paler than she had been last time I had seen her - then again, so was I.

"Oh, Harry, Kat, dear, it's lovely to see you!" she whispered, pulling us into a rib-cracking hug before holding us at arm's length and examining us critically. "You're looking peaky; you need feeding up, but you'll have to wait a bit for dinner, I'm afraid..."

She turned to the gang of wizards behind Harry and I and whispered urgently, "He's just arrived, the meeting's started..."

The wizards behind us all made noises of interest and excitement and began filing past me toward the door through which Mrs. Weasley had just come; Harry and I made to follow Lupin, but Mrs. Weasley held us back.

"No, dears, the meeting's only for members of the Order. Ron and Hermione are upstairs, you can wait with them until the meeting's over and then we'll have dinner. And keep your voice down in the hall," she added in an urgent whisper. Great, just what I need right now, more secrets!

"Why?"

"I don't want to wake anything up."

"What d'you -"

"I'll explain later, I've got to hurry, I'm supposed to be at the meeting - I'll just show you two where you're sleeping."

Pressing her finger to her lips, she led us on tiptoes past a pair of long, moth-eaten curtains, behind which I supposed there must be another door, and after skirting a large umbrella stand that looked as though it had been made from a severed troll's leg, we started up the dark staircase, passing a row of shrunken heads mounted on plaques on the wall. A closer look showed me that the heads belonged to house-elves. All of them had the same rather snoutlike nose.

"Ron and Hermione will explain everything, dear, I've really got to dash," Mrs. Weasley whispered distractedly. "There" - we had reached the second landing - "you're the door on the right. I'll call you when it's over."

And she hurried off downstairs again.

Harry and I crossed the dingy landing, turned the bedroom doorknob, which was shaped like a serpent's head, and opened the door.

I caught a brief glimpse of a gloomy high-ceilinged, twin-bedded room, then there was a loud twittering noise, followed by an even louder shriek, and my vision was completely obscured by a large quantity of very bushy hair - Hermione had thrown herself onto me in a hug that nearly knocked me flat, while Ron's tiny owl, Pigwidgeon, zoomed excitedly round and round our heads.

"Kat! Harry! Ron, they're here, they're here! We didn't hear you arrive! Oh, how are you? Are you all right? Have you two been furious with us? I bet you have, I know our letters were useless - but we couldn't tell you anything, Dumbledore made us swear we wouldn't, oh, we've got so much to tell you, and you've got to tell us - the dementors! When we heard - and that Ministry hearing - it's just outrageous, I've looked it all up, they can't expel you, they just can't, there's provision in the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Sorcery for the use of magic in life-threatening situations -" I shook my head at my bestie. She was talking a hundred words per minute - granted I did the same thing to...but that's besides the point! I gritted my teeth as she mentioned my grandfather though.

Yup, I knew it...he was behind the skimpy responses I had been getting all summer long. Why am I not surprised?

"Let them breathe, Hermione," said Ron, grinning, closing the door behind us. 

Hermione was beaming - but not for long as Harry started in on her and Ron for not responding to us. They showed us their bandaged hands from where Hedwig had bit them. I felt sorry for them; knowing that they had been caught in a crummy situation. But I - unlike Harry, wasn't going to blame them when I knew it was my grandfather who was to blame. 

Harry, on the otherhand...he went off on them like a firecracker! It was a sight to see but I kept my mouth shut, since he was saying everything for me. 

They explained hesitantly; as Harry continued to yell, that this was the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, a group of people gathered together by my grandfather the last time my...father...had been in power.

So what have you two been doing, if you're not allowed in meetings?" I asked, hoping to distract Harry from his tirade. "You said you'd been busy."

Hermione filled us in on how they had been cleaning up the house, trying to make the place livable again.

"We've managed to clean out the kitchen, most of the bedrooms, and I think we're doing the drawing room tomo - AARGH!"

With two loud cracks, Fred and George, Ron's elder twin brothers, had materialized out of thin air in the middle of the room.

"Stop doing that!" Hermione said weakly to the twins.

"Hello, Harry, hello little princess," said George, beaming at Harry and bowing to me." I rolled my eyes at him. "We thought we heard your dulcet tones."

"Hey! That was all Harry, not me!" I said, holding my hands up in front of me.

"You don't want to bottle up your anger like that, Harry, let it all out," said Fred, also beaming. "There might be a couple of people fifty miles away who didn't hear you."

"You two passed your Apparation tests, then?" asked Harry grumpily. I laughed at the expression on his face as I thought of all the cool new pranks we could pull at Hogwarts now.

The twins brought with them their latest invention - Extendable Ears - which they had been using to try and listen in on the meetings that went on downstairs. They updated us on the Weasley family, warning Harry and I not to mention Percy's name to their parents. 

Apparently, he had refused to join the rest of his older brothers in the Order, instead, choosing to believe the Ministry's account of events.

They filled us in on how the Ministry had been building upon what Rita Skeeter had started - making Harry and I out to be liers and my grandfather, a daft old man.

By the time we managed to head downstairs to see if we could listen in on the current meeting though, everyone was packing up.

"Snape never eats here," I heard Ron tell Harry quietly. "Thank God. " I glared at Ron. That was one of my godfather's he was talking about! A day would come when everyone would realize that Sev wasn't so bad as he was made out to be!

As we passed the row of house-elf heads on the wall we saw Lupin, Mrs. Weasley, and Tonks at the front door, magically sealing its many locks and bolts behind those who had just left.

"We're eating down in the kitchen," Mrs. Weasley whispered, meeting us at the bottom of the stairs. "Harry, Kat, dear, if you'll just tiptoe across the hall, it's through this door here -"

CRASH.

"Tonks!" cried Mrs. Weasley exasperatedly, turning to look behind her.

"I'm sorry!" wailed Tonks, who was lying flat on the floor. "It's that stupid umbrella stand, that's the second time I've tripped over -"

But the rest of her words were drowned by a horrible, earsplitting, bloodcurdling screech.

The moth-eaten velvet curtains we had passed earlier had flown apart, but there was no door behind them. For a split second, I thought I was looking through a window, a window behind which an old woman in a black cap was screaming and screaming as though she was being tortured - then I realized it was simply a life-size portrait.

The old woman was drooling, her eyes were rolling, the yellowing skin of her face stretched taut as she screamed, and all along the hall behind them, the other portraits awoke and began to yell too, so that I actually screwed up my eyes at the noise and clapped my hands over my ears.

Remy and Mrs. Weasley darted forward and tried to tug the curtains shut over the old woman, but they would not close and she screeched louder than ever, brandishing clawed hands as though trying to tear at their faces.

"Filth! Scum! Byproducts of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers -"

Tonks apologized over and over again, at the same time dragging the huge, heavy troll's leg back off the floor. Mrs. Weasley abandoned the attempt to close the curtains and hurried up and down the hall, Stunning all the other portraits with her wand. Then a man with long black hair came charging out of a door facing Harry and I.

"Shut up, you horrible old hag, shut UP!" he roared, seizing the curtain Mrs. Weasley had abandoned.

The old woman's face blanched.

"Yoooou!" she howled, her eyes popping at the sight of the man. "Blood traitor, abomination, shame of my flesh!"

"I said - shut - UP!" roared the man, and with a stupendous effort he and Lupin managed to force the curtains closed again.

The old woman's screeches died and an echoing silence fell.

Panting slightly and sweeping his long dark hair out of his eyes, my...hmm, what am I supposed to call him now...Sirius for now I guess...turned to face us.

"Hello, angelous paulo," he said grimly, "I see you've met my mother." Does that mean that horrible women was my grandmother? Oh, wait, Sirius isn't related to me...it was still so hard to get used to the idea.

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In-Line Comments

\- So also looking for suggestions on what to have Sirius's mother say to Kat. Should she be nice since she's the Dark Lord's Daughter? Or should she hate Kat for being a blood-traitor? I'll dedicate the next chapter to whoever can come up with a good quote for me to use for Mrs. Black!   
\- Next chapter will hopefully contain some Sirus/Kat fluffy moments - assuming she decides to forgive him :p


	100. The Order of The Phoenix

Katrina's POV

"Your -?" Harry said. I kept my mouth shut. Not knowing what to say to the man before me. I was torn between wanting to hug him, and wanting to smack him in the face...

"My dear old mum, yeah," said Sirius. "We've been trying to get her down for a month but we think she put a Permanent Sticking Charm on the back of the canvas. Let's get downstairs, quick, before they all wake up again."

"But what's a portrait of your mother doing here?" Harry asked, though I had a sneaking suspicion as to why.

"Hasn't anyone told you? This was my parents' house," said Sirius. "But I'm the last Black left, so it's mine now. I offered it to Dumbledore for headquarters - about the only useful thing I've been able to do."

Though I was mad at Sirius, I had expected a better welcome, and noted how hard and bitter his voice sounded. We followed Sirius to the bottom of the stairs and through a door leading into the basement kitchen, Sirius looking at me the entire time while I tried to avoid his gaze.

It was scarcely less gloomy than the hall above, a cavernous room with rough stone walls. Most of the light was coming from a large fire at the far end of the room and there was a haze of pipe smoke. Many chairs had been crammed into the room for the meeting and a long wooden table stood in the middle of the room, littered with rolls of parchment, goblets, empty wine bottles, and a heap of what appeared to be rags. 

Mr. Weasley and his eldest son, Bill, were talking quietly with their heads together at the end of the table.

Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat. Her husband looked around and jumped to his feet.

"Harry! Katrina!" Mr. Weasley said, hurrying forward to greet us hugging me and shaking Harry's hand vigorously. "Good to see you!"

Over his shoulder I saw Bill, who still wore his long hair in a ponytail, hastily rolling up the lengths of parchment left on the table. 

"Journey all right, Harry? Dumbledorette?" Bill called, trying to gather up twelve scrolls at once. "Mad-Eye didn't make you come via Greenland, then?" I made sure that Bill saw me roll my eyes at him but he just grinned back at me.

"He tried," said Tonks, striding over to help Bill and immediately sending a candle toppling onto the last piece of parchment. "Oh no - sorry -"

"Here, dear," said Mrs. Weasley, sounding exasperated, and she repaired the parchment with a wave of her wand: In the flash of light caused by Mrs. Weasley's charm, I caught a glimpse of what looked like the plan of a building.

Mrs. Weasley had seen me looking. She snatched the plan off the table and stuffed it into Bill's heavily laden arms.

"This sort of thing ought to be cleared away promptly at the end of meetings," she snapped before sweeping off toward an ancient dresser from which she started unloading dinner plates.

Bill took out his wand, muttered "Evanesco!" and the scrolls vanished.

"Sit down, Harry, Kat," said Sirius. "You've met Mundungus, haven't you?"

The pile of rags in the corner gave a prolonged, grunting snore and then jerked awake.

"Some'n say m' name?" Mundungus mumbled sleepily. "I 'gree with Sirius..."

He raised a very grubby hand in the air as though voting, his droopy, bloodshot eyes unfocused. Ginny and I giggled.

"The meeting's over, Dung," said Sirius, as we all sat down around him at the table. "Harry and Katrina have arrived."

"Eh?" said Mundungus, fumbling nervously in his pockets, still staring at Harry and I, and pulling out a grimy black pipe. He stuck it in his mouth, ignited the end of it with his wand, and took a deep pull on it.

"Owe you a 'pology," grunted a voice from the middle of the smelly cloud.

"For the last time, Mundungus," called Mrs. Weasley, "will you please not smoke that thing in the kitchen, especially not when we're about to eat!"

"Ah," said Mundungus. "Right. Sorry, Molly."  
The cloud of smoke vanished as Mundungus stowed his pipe back in his pocket, but an acrid smell of burning socks lingered.

"And if you want dinner before midnight I'll need a hand," Mrs. Weasley said to the room at large. "No, you can stay where you are, Harry,  
Kat, dear, you've had a long journey -"

"What can I do, Molly?" said Tonks enthusiastically, bounding forward.

I laughed as Mrs. Weasley hesitated, looking apprehensive. They went back and forth for a while, Tonks determined to help.

"Er - no, it's all right, Tonks, you have a rest too, you've done enough today -"

Harry and I were left at the table with Sirius and Mundungus, who was still blinking mournfully at us and trying to explain why he had ditched his duties. 

Not that I really cared. I was more bothered by the fact that he had been following me around than by the fact that he had stopped for a few hours - though he had sucky timing, sure. 

I felt something brush against my knees and started, but it was only Crookshanks, who wound himself once around my legs, purring, then jumped onto Sirius's lap and curled up. Sirius scratched him absentmindedly behind the ears as he turned, still grim-faced, to me.

I had a flashback to my third year when I had first met Sirius. Back when I had been naive enough to believe everyone when they told me he was my father. I had somehow morphed into Crookshanks for a little while. I couldn't help but remember how nice it had been to be in Sirius's arms at the time. 

"Had a good summer so far?" He asked Harry and I. I stared at him.

"I wandered the streets, alone and hungry, it was bloody awesome..." I said tonelessly. 

"No, it's been lousy," said Harry.

For the first time, something like a grin flitted across Sirius's face. "Don't know what you're complaining about, myself."

"What?" said Harry and I incredulously.

"Personally, I'd have welcomed a dementor attack. A deadly struggle for my soul would have broken the monotony nicely. You think you've had it bad, at least you've been able to get out and about, stretch your legs, get into a few fights...I've been stuck inside for a month." I could understand where he was coming from I guess. I would go stir crazy if the roles were reversed.

"How come?" asked Harry, frowning.

"Because the Ministry of Magic's still after me, and Voldemort will know all about me being an Animagus by now, Wormtail will have told him, so my big disguise is useless. There's not much I can do for the Order of the Phoenix...or so Dumbledore feels."

There was something about the slightly flattened tone of voice in which Sirius uttered my grandfather's name that told me that Sirius was not very happy with the headmaster either.

I asked him why he was angry and his answer warmed my heart a smidge. Sirius told me how he had begged my grandfather from the day I was born not to keep my father a secret from me, fearing how I would react if I ever found out in the future - and he was furious now that he had been right all along and that it had resulted in me wandering the streets alone for a month and a half. We talked for a while and the more we did, the more I could tell that Sirius was telling the truth about wanting to tell me the truth from the start and about my grandfather refusing to let him. I had forgiven Harry so how could I stay mad at him as well?

"Can you forgive me for being mad at you these last few months?" I asked him quietly. He looked at me in shock.

"Of course I can! You didn't do anything wrong! It was our fault for not telling you like we should have done!" I looked down and fumbled with my hands.

"No, it was Dumbledore's fault..." I looked over at Sirius, as I had done with Harry earlier.

"Can you ever forgive me?" Sirius asked me, looking at me with puppy dog eyes.

"On one condition - if its alright with you?" I said hesitantly.

"Anything!" Sirius said, nodding his head rapidly.

"Can - I - I know you're not technically my father - but - but you are a far better role model than my real dad, and um...I was just wondering...can - can I still call you father?" I could barely get the words out around the lump in my throat.

Sirius choked as he nodded his head, his eyes tearing up. I morphed into my dog form and wagged my tail at him as I licked his cheek. Happy to have released my resentment towards him, though still not prepared to do the same for my grandfather.

"At least you've known what's been going on," Harry said bracingly, smiling though as he looked at me and my father.

"Oh yeah," said Sirius sarcastically. "Listening to Snape's reports, having to take all his snide hints that he's out there risking his life while I'm sat on my backside here having a nice comfortable time...asking me how the cleaning's going -"

"What cleaning?" asked Harry. I rolled my eyes at Harry. Does that boy ever pay attention?! Hermione had told us what they had been doing! Then again, he had been shouting at the time...

"Fred - George - NO, JUST CARRY THEM!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked.

Harry, Sirius, Mundungus, and I looked around and, a split second later, dived away from the table. Fred and George had bewitched a large cauldron of stew, an iron flagon of butterbeer, and a heavy wooden breadboard, complete with knife, to hurtle through the air toward us. The stew skidded the length of the table and came to a halt just before the end, leaving a long black burn on the wooden surface, the flagon of butterbeer fell with a crash, spilling its contents everywhere, and the bread knife slipped off the board and landed, point down and quivering ominously, exactly where Sirius's right hand had been seconds before.

"FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!" screamed Mrs. Weasley. "THERE WAS NO NEED — I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS - JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE ALLOWED TO USE MAGIC NOW YOU DON'T HAVE TO WHIP YOUR WANDS OUT FOR EVERY TINY LITTLE THING!"

I giggled.

"We were just trying to save a bit of time!" said Fred, hurrying forward and wrenching the bread knife out of the table. "Sorry Sirius, mate - didn't mean to -"

Harry and Sirius were both laughing. 

"It looks wonderful, Molly," said Lupin, ladling stew onto a plate for her and handing it across the table.

For a few minutes there was silence but for the chink of plates and cutlery and the scraping of chairs as everyone settled down to their food. 

Then Mrs. Weasley turned to Sirius and said, "I've been meaning to tell you, there's something trapped in that writing desk in the drawing room, it keeps rattling and shaking. Of course, it could just be a boggart, but I thought we ought to ask Alastor to have a look at it before we let it out."

"Whatever you like," said Sirius indifferently.

"The curtains in there are full of doxies too," Mrs. Weasley went on. "I thought we might try and tackle them tomorrow."

"I look forward to it," said Sirius. I heard the sarcasm in his voice, but I was not sure that anyone else did.

Opposite Harry, Tonks was entertaining Hermione and Ginny by transforming her nose between mouthfuls. Apparently this was a regular mealtime entertainment, because after a while Hermione and Ginny started requesting their favorite noses. 

I really needed to talk to her when I could get a chance! She was the first Metamorphmagus I had ever met, and after learning that I was an Animorphmagus, I had been dying to meet one! I had so many questions!

Mr. Weasley, Bill, and Lupin were having an intense discussion about goblins.

A gale of laughter from the middle of the table drowned the rest of Bill's words. Fred, George, Ron, and Mundungus were rolling around in their seats laughing about how Mundungas had managed to sell toads to the person who he had originally stole them from.

"I don't think we need to hear any more of your business dealings, thank you very much, Mundungus," said Mrs. Weasley sharply, as Ron slumped forward onto the table, howling with laughter.

Three helpings of rhubarb crumble and custard later and the waistband on my jeans was feeling uncomfortably tight. 

"Nearly time for bed, I think," said Mrs. Weasley on a yawn.

"Not just yet, Molly," said Sirius, pushing away his empty plate and turning to look at Harry and I. "You know, I'm surprised at you two. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort."

The atmosphere in the room changed with the rapidity I associated with the arrival of dementors. Where seconds before it had been sleepily relaxed, it was now alert, even tense. Remy, who had been about to take a sip of wine, lowered his goblet slowly, looking wary.

********************************************

I went to sleep that night with more questions than answers. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and I talked about what we had heard late into the night. Trying to make sense of it all. Apparently Fudge thought my grandfather was trying to overthrow him, and Voldemort was recruiting people and creatures to his side and searching for a weapon of some kind. It was at that point, unfortunately, when Mrs. Weasley stopped the conversation and refused to listen to us when Hardy and I tried to volunteer our services to the Order - something about us being to young and underage; which I thought was utterly ridiculous considering how many times we had already faced Voldemort...

I was just happy to have finally forgiven Harry and Sirius - my grandfather on the other hand - I don't think that I would be able to forgive him for a very long time.

********************************************

In-Line Comments

\- Awesome got some good feedback so far on what to do about the whole theastral situation what does everyone think about me going with the fact that they saw Quirrell die? And or someone at St mongos?   
\- thanks to Mortem Ensis47 and @trueriddle7474 for those ideas and for helping me to think of how Mrs. Black might react i think im going to combine it so that she's nice at first and then angry


	101. The Noble & Most Ancient House of Black

Katrina's POV

Hermione and I ate a hurried breakfast the next morning before joining Mrs. Weasley in the drawing room, a long, high-ceilinged room on the first floor with olive-green walls covered in dirty tapestries.

Harry and Ron of course, were late.

"Cover your faces and take a spray," Mrs. Weasley said to my friends the moment she saw them, pointing to two more bottles of black liquid standing on a spindle-legged table. "It's Doxycide. I've never seen an infestation this bad - what that house-elf's been doing for the last ten years -"

Hermione's face was half concealed by a tea towel but I distinctly saw her throw a reproachful look at Mrs. Weasley at these words.

"Kreacher's really old, he probably couldn't manage -" I tried to say, knowing Hermione would say it otherwise.

"You'd be surprised what Kreacher can manage when he wants to, KitKat," said Sirius, who had just entered the room carrying a bloodstained bag of what appeared to be dead rats. "I've just been feeding Buckbeak," he added, looking at me with warm eyes. "I keep him upstairs in my mother's bedroom; you can say hi to him later today if you would like! Anyway...this writing desk..." I nodded enthusiastically as he dropped the bag of rats onto an armchair, then bent over to examine the locked cabinet which, I now noticed for the first time, was shaking slightly.

He agreed with Mrs. Weasley that it was probably a boggart but decided that she was right to want Moody to double check first.

A loud, clanging bell sounded from downstairs, followed at once by the cacophony of screams and wails that had been triggered the previous night by Tonks knocking over the umbrella stand.

"I keep telling them not to ring the doorbell!" said Sirius exasperatedly, hurrying back out of the room. We heard him thundering down the stairs as Mrs. Black's screeches echoed up through the house once more: "Stains of dishonor, filthy half-breeds, blood traitors, children of filth..."

"Close the door, please, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley was bending over to check the page on doxies in Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests, which was lying open on the sofa. 

I shuddered, memories of Lockhart's affection towards me flashing through my mind as I remembered my second year.

"Right, you lot, you need to be careful, because doxies bite and their teeth are poisonous. I've got a bottle of antidote here, but I'd rather nobody needed it."

She straightened up, positioned herself squarely in front of the curtains, and beckoned us all forward.

"When I say the word, start spraying immediately," she said. "When they're immobilized, just throw them in this bucket."  
She stepped carefully out of our line of fire and raised her own spray. "All right - squirt!"

I had been spraying only a few seconds when a fully grown doxy came soaring out of a fold in the material, shiny beetlelike wings whirring, tiny needle-sharp teeth bared, its fairylike body covered with thick black hair and its four tiny fists clenched with fury. 

I caught it full in the face with a blast of Doxycide; it froze in midair and fell, with a surprisingly loud thunk, onto the worn carpet below. I picked it up and threw it in the bucket.

I looked over to see Fred and George sneaking some of the Doxies into their pockets and shook my head. What were those two up to now? Probably something to do with the Joke Shop they were trying to start. Harry and I had given the twins our Triwizards earnings at the end of last year to help them start. And I couldn't wait to see what they accomplished eventually! 

The de-doxying of the curtains took most of the morning. It was past midday when Mrs. Weasley finally removed her protective scarf, sank into a sagging armchair, and sprang up again with a cry of disgust, having sat on the bag of dead rats. The curtains were no longer buzzing; they hung limp and damp from the intensive spraying; unconscious doxies lay crammed in the bucket at the foot of them beside a bowl of their black eggs, at which Crookshanks was now sniffing and Fred and George were shooting covetous looks. I laughed, wondering how they planned to get their hands on them without their mother noticing.

"I think we'll tackle those after lunch."  
Mrs. Weasley pointed at the dusty glass-fronted cabinets standing on either side of the mantelpiece. They were crammed with an odd assortment of objects: a selection of rusty daggers, claws, a coiled snakeskin, a number of tarnished silver boxes inscribed with languages I could not understand and, least pleasant of all, an ornate crystal bottle with a large opal set into the stopper, full of what I was quite sure was blood.

The clanging doorbell rang again. We all looked at Mrs. Weasley.

"Stay here," she said firmly, snatching up the bag of rats as Mrs. Blacks screeches started up again from down below. "I'll bring up some sandwiches."

She left the room, closing the door carefully behind her. At once, we all dashed over to the window to look down onto the doorstep. We could see the top of an unkempt gingery head and a stack of precariously balanced cauldrons.

It was Mundungus, looking for a safe place to keep his stolen goods...it was safe to say that Mrs. Weasley was not happy with this arrangement! Sure enough, her voice was soon rattling through the house and up to us, making the need for Extendable Ears unnecessary.

I looked over at the twins to see them grinning widely, happy that for once, they were not on the receiving end of one of Mrs. Weasley's tirades.

"The idiots are letting her get into her stride," said George, shaking his head. "You've got to head her off early, otherwise she builds up a head of steam and goes on for hours. And she's been dying to have a go at Mundungus ever since he sneaked off when he was supposed to be following you and Harry - and there goes Sirius's mum again -"

Mrs. Weasley's voice was lost amid fresh shrieks and screams from the portraits in the hall. George made to shut the door to drown the noise, but before he could do so, a house-elf edged into the room.

The elf took absolutely no notice of me and the rest. Acting as though he could not see us, he shuffled hunchbacked, slowly and doggedly, toward the far end of the room, muttering under his breath all the while in a hoarse, deep voice like a bullfrog's.

"Hello, Kreacher," said Fred very loudly, closing the door with a snap.

The house-elf froze in his tracks, stopped muttering, and then gave a very pronounced and very unconvincing start of surprise.  
"Kreacher did not see Young Master," he said, turning around and bowing to Fred. Still facing the carpet, he added, perfectly audibly, "Nasty little brat of a blood traitor it is."

"Sorry?" said George. "Didn't catch that last bit."

"Kreacher said nothing," said the elf, with a second bow to George, adding in a clear undertone, "and there's its twin, unnatural little beasts they are."

I didn't know whether to laugh or not. The elf straightened up, eyeing us all very malevolently, and apparently convinced that we could not hear him as he continued to mutter.

"...and there's the Mudblood, standing there bold as brass, oh if my Mistress knew, oh how she'd cry, and there's a new boy and girl, Kreacher doesn't know their names, what are they doing here, Kreacher doesn't know..."

"Hey, don't talk about Hermione like that!" I said.

"This is Harry and this is Katrina, Kreacher," said Hermione tentatively. 

"Harry Potter, Katrina Riddle..." Kreacher's pale eyes widened and he muttered faster and more furiously than ever.

"The Mudblood is talking to Kreacher as though she is my friend, if Kreacher's Mistress saw him in such company, oh what would she say -"

"Don't call her a Mudblood!" said Ron, Ginny, and I together, very angrily.

"It doesn't matter," Hermione whispered, "he's not in his right mind, he doesn't know what he's —"

"Don't kid yourself, Hermione, he knows exactly what he's saying," said Fred, eyeing Kreacher with great dislike.

Kreacher was still muttering, his eyes on Harry and I.

"Is it true? Is it Harry Potter? Kreacher can see the scar, it must be true, that's that boy who stopped the Dark Lord, Kreacher wonders how he did it -"

"Don't we all, Kreacher?" said Fred.

Kreacher ignored Fred and kept muttering.

"Mistress would be proud to know that the girl is here though! Kreacher will be pleased to tell her of the lady's arrival. She will be honored to have such an powerful guest staying here! Oh, Kreacher is going to be well rewarded when he informs her of the Dark Lady's presence. Look at her standing there, Kreacher can feel the princess's power from here - and what a vision she is. Kreacher has never seen such beauty before -" I paled. I hated all this princess and Dark Lady nonsense. And I really wished everyone would stop calling me beautiful. I didn't feel that way. I just felt ugly; not on the outside, but on the inside. I was nothing more than a monster.

"What do you want anyway?" George asked, interrupting Kreacher.

I sighed in relief as Kreacher's huge eyes darted onto George and away from me.

"Kreacher is cleaning," he said evasively.

"A likely story," said a voice behind me.

Sirius had come back; he was glowering at the elf from the doorway. At the sight of Sirius, Kreacher flung himself into a ridiculously low bow that flattened his snoutlike nose on the floor.

I frowned as we listened to the conversation between man and elf. I could see why Sirius did not like Kreacher, but that didn't mean he should talk to the elf the way that he did. I was reminded of the conversation we had last year when he had applauded Hermione for measuring Crouch Sr.'s worth by the manner in which he treated Winky, and I couldn't help but think Sirius was being a tad hypocritical right now. I tried to point it out to him, but he just huffed and sent Kreature away. 

Once the elf had left the room, Hermione asked Sirius why he didn't just free the creature, but Sirius explained that Kreature knew too much about the Order and if nothing else, the shock of freedom would probably stop Kreature's heart.

Sirius walked across the room, where the tapestry Kreacher had been trying to protect hung the length of the wall. We all followed.

The tapestry looked immensely old; it was faded and looked as though doxies had gnawed it in places; nevertheless, the golden thread with which it was embroidered still glinted brightly enough to show us a sprawling family tree dating back (as far as I could tell) to the Middle Ages. Large words at the very top of the tapestry read: The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black "Toujours Pur"

"You're not on here!" I said, after scanning the bottom of the tree.

"I used to be there," said Sirius, pointing at a small, round, charred hole in the tapestry, rather like a cigarette burn. "My sweet old mother blasted me off after I ran away from home - Kreacher's quite fond of muttering the story under his breath."

"You ran away from home?" Harry asked in surprise. Guess we are more alike than I thought.

"When I was about sixteen," said Sirius. "I'd had enough." 

"Where did you go?" asked Harry, staring at Sirius. I tilted my head to the side, also wanting to know the answer. 

"Your dad's place," said Sirius. "Your grandparents were really good about it; they sort of adopted me as a second son. Yeah, I camped out at your dad's during the school holidays, and then when I was seventeen I got a place of my own, my Uncle Alphard had left me a decent bit of gold - he's been wiped off here too, that's probably why - anyway, after that I looked after myself; and Eliana, when she moved in. We were always welcome at Mr. and Mrs. Potter's for Sunday lunch, though.

"But...why did you...?" I really need to talk to Harry about learning how to pay attention to context clues!

"Leave?" Sirius smiled bitterly and ran a hand through his long, unkempt hair. "Because I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pureblood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal...my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them...that's him." Well, I can definitely understand that!

Sirius jabbed a finger at the very bottom of the tree, at the name Regulas Black. A date of death (some fifteen years previously) followed the date of birth.

"He was younger than me," said Sirius, "and a much better son, as I was constantly reminded."

"But he died," said Harry. No shit, Harry! What gave it away? The date of death staring you right in the face?

"Yeah," said Sirius. "Stupid idiot...he joined the Death Eaters."

"You're kidding!" I rolled my eyes at Harry. Now, THAT should be a drinking game - I can't even begin to count the number of times Harry: or Ron, said something that was eye-roll worthy!

"Come on, Harry, haven't you seen enough of this house to tell what kind of wizards my family were?" said Sirius testily.

"Were - were your parents Death Eaters as well?"

"No, no, but believe me, they thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for the purification of the Wizarding race, getting rid of Muggleborns and having purebloods in charge. I bet my parents thought Regulus was a right little hero for joining up at first."

"Was he killed by an Auror?" Harry asked tentatively.

Sirius told us how Voldemort had been the one to kill his brother, though from his tone of voice, I could tell that he didn't believe his brother ever would have been important enough to have had that "honor".

"Lunch," said Mrs. Weasley's voice.

She was holding her wand high in front of her, balancing a huge tray loaded with sandwiches and cake on its tip. She was very red in the face and still looked angry. I went to join the others, eager for some food, while Harry remained with Sirius, who had bent closer to the tapestry. 

I had already looked at it closely enough and didn't want to keep staring at it as it reminded me of my own family tree and how there could be several others out there still that I might not know I was related to. I did think it was cool that Sirius was related to Tonks though, she seemed like such a badass! Other than the whole clumsy thing. 

After grabbing a few sandwiches for Harry, Sirius, and myself, I rejoined the two men. 

"I wouldn't mind if I could just get out occasionally and do something useful. I've asked Dumbledore whether I can escort you two to your hearing - as Snuffles, obviously - so I can give you a bit of moral support, what d'you think?" I overheard Sirius saying as I walked up to them and handed them their sandwiches.

I felt as though my stomach had sunk through the dusty carpet. I had not thought about the hearing once since dinner the previous evening.

"Don't worry, KitKat," Sirius said. I looked up and realized that Sirius had been watching me. "I'm sure they're going to clear the both of you, there's definitely something in the International Statute of Secrecy about being allowed to use magic to save your own life."

"But if they do expel us," I said, quietly, "can I, well, we, come back here and live with you?"

Sirius smiled sadly.

"We'll see."

"I'd feel a lot better about the hearing if I knew I didn't have to go back to the Dursleys," Harry pressed him. I stayed quiet, not wanting to ask a second time. Things were still uncertain between Sirius and I and I didn't want to overstep. But I had to admit I liked the idea of here better than the streets. I couldn't stay with Sev or Remy because they were off doing important things to help fight Voldemort and though Sirius was not useless in the fight, he would be able to provide a more stable home environment than either Sev or Remy. I hope that doesn't sound mean...I'm just being realistic!

"They must be bad if you prefer this place," said Sirius gloomily. "This isn't the home that I would have wanted for you, angelous paulo, and to be honest, I'm not entirely sure I will have any say with Dumbledore involved...I don't want to get your hopes up..." 

Sirius heaved another great sigh, cast a dark look at the tapestry.

I tried my best not to think about the hearing while we emptied the glass cabinets that afternoon. Fortunately for me, it was a job that required a lot of concentration, as many of the objects in there seemed very reluctant to leave their dusty shelves. Sirius sustained a bad bite from a silver snuffbox; within seconds, his bitten hand had developed an unpleasant crusty covering like a tough brown glove.

"It's okay," he said, examining the hand with interest before tapping it lightly with his wand and restoring its skin to normal, "must be Wartcap powder in there."

He threw the box aside into the sack where we were depositing the debris from the cabinets; I saw George wrap his own hand carefully in a cloth moments later and sneak the box into his already doxy-filled pocket. They better be careful when they test run their products otherwise they are going to kill themselves!

We found an unpleasant-looking silver instrument, something like a many-legged pair of tweezers, which scuttled up Harry's arm like a spider when he picked it up, and attempted to puncture his skin; Sirius seized it and smashed it with a heavy book entitled Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy. 

There was a musical box that emitted a faintly sinister, tinkling tune when wound, and we all found ourselves becoming curiously weak and sleepy until Ginny had the sense to slam the lid shut.

There was a heavy locket that none of us could open - but something about it gave me the creeps. It looked so harmless as it sat there in my palm as I tried to pry it open, but for some reason it reminded me of Riddle's Diary - well, my father's diary I guess...There was a similar sense of Dark Magic surrounding it and I quickly chucked it to Fred, who wanted to have a go at getting it open.

There was a number of ancient seals and, in a dusty box, an Order of Merlin, First Class, that had been awarded to Sirius's grandfather for "Services to the Ministry."

"It means he gave them a load of gold," said Sirius contemptuously, throwing the medal into the rubbish sack, along with the golden locket.

Several times, Kreacher sidled into the room and attempted to smuggle things away under his loincloth, muttering horrible curses every time we caught him at it - though I noticed he had nothing but compliments for me; which I didn't consider flattering, considering the reason behind his fascination with me. When Sirius wrested a large golden ring bearing the Black crest from his grip Kreacher actually burst into furious tears and left the room sobbing under his breath and calling Sirius names I had never heard before.

"It was my father's," said Sirius, throwing the ring into the sack. "Kreacher wasn't quite as devoted to him as to my mother, but I still caught him snogging a pair of my father's old trousers last week."

********************************************

Later that night, I had Sirius show me up to the room where he had been keeping Buckbeak, and sat with him for a few hours. Keeping the beast company, telling my mother all about what had happened to me since I had last seen her in our third year. I know it's not like she can really respond to what I say or help me to try and understand her crazy gray-haired father - but something about leaning up against Buckbeak and talking with her about everything and nothing, made me feel a little better. 

********************************************

Mrs. Weasley kept us all working very hard over the next few days. The drawing room took three days to decontaminate; finally the only undesirable things left in it were the tapestry of the Black family tree, which resisted all of our  attempts to remove it from the wall; including my fire balls, and the rattling writing desk; Moody had not dropped by headquarters yet, so we could not be sure what was inside it.

We moved from the drawing room to a dining room on the ground floor where we found spiders large as saucers lurking in the dresser (Ron and I left the room hurriedly to make a cup of tea and did not return for an hour and a half). I may not be terrified of spiders like Ron was, but that didn't mean I liked to be in a room with them when it could be avoided!

The china, which bore the Black crest and motto, was all thrown unceremoniously into a sack by Sirius, and the same fate met a set of old photographs in tarnished silver frames, all of whose occupants squealed shrilly as the glass covering them smashed.

Sev might refer to ourwork as "cleaning," but in my opinion we were really waging war on the house, which was putting up a very good fight, aided and abetted by Kreacher. The house-elf kept appearing wherever we were congregated, his muttering becoming more and more offensive as he attempted to remove anything he could from the rubbish sacks.

I tried to sneak him a few items here and there when I could, feeling bad for the poor elf. I had even begrudging dug out the evil looking locket and given it back to him, after he had pleaded and pleaded with me. I tried to convince him that other things were more worth saving but he was just so fixated on it I finally had enough and caved. I'm such a sucker sometimes!

The look in his eyes when I had dropped the locket in his hands was priceless though and almost made it worth having to have handled the evil thing again. His eyes had widened into saucers and I think I could make out what might be interpreted as a crude smile on his face.

Sirius went as far as to threaten him with clothes, but Kreacher fixed him with a watery stare and said, "Master must do as Master wishes," before turning away and muttering very loudly, "but Master will not turn Kreacher away, no, because Kreacher knows what they are up to, oh yes, he is plotting against the Dark Lord, yes, with these Mudbloods and traitors and scum..."

At which Sirius, ignoring Hermione's protests, seized Kreacher by the back of his loincloth and threw him bodily from the room.

The doorbell rang several times a day, which was the cue for Sirius's mother to start shrieking again, and for us to attempt to eavesdrop on the visitor, though we gleaned very little from the brief glimpses and snatches of conversation we were able to sneak before Mrs. Weasley recalled us to our tasks. 

Sev flitted in and out of the house several times more, always making sure to catch me when I was alone and check up on me. I also caught sight of Minnie one afternoon, looking very odd in a Muggle dress and coat, though she seemed too busy to linger.

Sometimes, however, the visitors stayed to help; Tonks joined us for a memorable afternoon in which we found a murderous old ghoul lurking in an upstairs toilet, and Remy, who was staying in the house with Sirius but who left it for long periods to do mysterious work for the Order, helped us repair a grandfather clock that had developed the unpleasant habit of shooting heavy bolts at passersby. 

Mundungus redeemed himself slightly in Mrs. Weasley's eyes by rescuing Ron from an ancient set of purple robes that had tried to strangle him when he removed them from their wardrobe.

Despite the fact that I was sleeping badly, still having dreams about corridors and locked doors that made my scar prickle, I was managing to have fun for the first time all summer. I didn't understand what the dreams were about, but they had started up over the summer, and I couldn't seem to shake them. 

But as long as I was busy I was happy; when the action abated, however, whenever I dropped my guard, or lay exhausted in bed watching blurred shadows move across the ceiling, or when I sat with Buckbeak late into the night, stroking his feathers gently, the thought of the looming Ministry hearing returned to me. 

I felt as though a brick had dropped into my stomach when Mrs. Weasley turned to Harry and I during dinner on Wednesday evening and said quietly, "I've ironed your best clothes for tomorrow morning, you two, and I want you to wash your hair tonight, Harry. Kat, yours always looks perfect but, Harry...yours could do with a little work. A good first impression can work wonders."

Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny all stopped talking and looked over at us. I nodded and tried to keep eating my chops, but but my mouth had become so dry I could not chew.

"How are we getting there?" I asked Mrs. Weasley, trying to sound unconcerned.

"Arthur's taking you two to work with him," said Mrs. Weasley gently. Mr. Weasley smiled encouragingly at me across the table.

"You can wait in my office until it's time for the hearing," he said. I looked over at Sirius, but before I could ask the question, Mrs. Weasley had answered it.

"Your grandfather doesn't think it's a good idea for Sirius to go with you two, and I must say I -"

"- think he's quite right," said Sirius through clenched teeth. Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips.

"When did he tell you that?" I said, staring at Sirius, my fork dropping with a clank onto my plate.

"He came last night, when you were in bed," said Mr. Weasley.

I stabbed moodily at a potato with my fork. The thought that my grandfather had been in the house on the eve of my hearing and not asked to see me made me feel, if that were possible, even worse. What, did he not care how his granddaughter was doing after almost two months wandering the streets all alone - not to mention being attacked by dementors?!

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In-Line Comments

\- Hope you liked it! Kat is going to have to deal with people accusing her of being an unregistered animagi next chapter so we shall see how it goes! Though spoiler alert imma use my origianl explanation from book 3 to explain/defend her!


	102. The Ministry of Magic

Katrina's POV

 

I awoke at half-past five the next morning as abruptly and completely as if somebody had yelled in my ear. For a few moments I lay immobile as the prospect of the hearing filled every tiny particle of my brain, then, unable to bear it, I leapt out of bed, got dressed, and headed down the stairs.

 

I had expected it to be empty, but it was not. When I reached the door I heard the soft rumble of voices on the other side and when I pushed it open, I saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, and Harry sitting there almost as though they were waiting for me.

 

All were fully dressed except Mrs. Weasley, who was wearing a quilted, purple dressing gown. She leapt to her feet the moment I entered.

 

"Breakfast," she said as she pulled out her wand and hurried over to the fire.

 

"M-m-morning, Kat," yawned Tonks. Her hair was blonde and curly this morning, whereas I, had decided to keep mine a normal wavy brown; not wanting to risk drawing anymore attention to myself today than was necessary. "Sleep all right?"

 

"Yeah," I said, glancing over at Harry. His head was down as he just stared at his food, refusing to look at me. I couldn't blame him. I wasn't feeling very good myself...even talking to Buckbeak last night until I had fallen asleep; only to be carried up to my bed by Sirius, had not helped my anxiety.

 

"I've b-b-been up all night," she said, with another shuddering yawn. "Come and sit down. . . ."

 

She drew out a chair, knocking over the one beside it in the process. "What do you want, Katrina, dear?" Mrs. Weasley called. "Porridge? Muffins? Kippers? Bacon and eggs? Toast?"

 

"Just — just toast, thanks," I answered, opting to follow in Harry's footsteps.

 

Lupin glanced at me, then said to Tonks, "What were you saying about Scrimgeour?"

 

"Oh...yeah...well, we need to be a bit more careful, he's been asking Kingsley and me funny questions..."

 

I felt vaguely grateful that I was not required to join in the conversation. My insides were squirming. I looked over at Harry as I squirmed in my chair. I couldn't imagine how he must be feeling. I mean, yes, we had been tossed in the same boat, but at least I would have my magic at the end of the day, whereas, Harry, might not if they chose to snap his wand in half...

 

Mrs. Weasley placed a couple of pieces of toast and marmalade in front of me; I tried to eat, but it was like chewing carpet. Mrs. Weasley sat down on the other side of Harry and started fussing with his T-shirt, tucking in the label and smoothing out creases across the shoulders. If the situation was different, I would have laughed at the expression on his face. He was so adorable! I sighed heavily as I stared at my toast. With everything that had happened at the end of last year and with the whole Dementor incident, I hadn't had any chance to ask Harry what the hell we were...we had kissed by now a few times, but hadn't actually talked about if we were dating now or not. I glared at the piece of toast as I tried to ignore how cute Harry looked as he was forced to sit still under Mrs. Weasley's ministrations. Now was definitely not the time to ask him either...and I couldn't picture anytime in the near future where it would be...but Merlin's pants did I desperately want to know!

 

"....and I'll have to tell Dumbledore I can't do night duty tomorrow, I'm just t-t-too tired," Tonks finished, yawning hugely again.

 

"I'll cover for you," said Mr. Weasley. "I'm okay, I've got a report to finish anyway..." Mr. Weasley was not wearing wizard's robes but a pair of pin-striped trousers and an old bomber jacket. He turned from Tonks to Harry and I. "How are you feeling?"

 

Harry and I simply shrugged.

 

"It'll all be over soon," Mr. Weasley said bracingly. "In a few hours' time you'll be cleared." Neither of us saidanything. "The hearing's on my floor, in Amelia Bones's office. She's Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and she's the one who'll be questioning you."

 

"Amelia Bones is okay," said Tonks earnestly. "She's fair, she'll hear you out."

 

I nodded, still unable to think of anything to say.

 

"Don't lose your temper," said Sirius abruptly. "Be polite and stick to the facts."

 

I nodded again, knowing that my father was directing that statement more towards Harry than myself.

 

"The law's on your side," said Lupin quietly. "Even underage wizards are allowed to use magic in life-threatening situations." I already knew that...but that didn't help calm my nerves...

 

"I think we'll go now," Mr. Weasley said, checking his watch. "We're a bit early, but I think you two will be better off there than hanging around here."

 

"Okay," I replied automatically, dropping my toast and getting to my feet.

 

"You'll be all right, Harry, Katrina," said Tonks, patting me on the back.

 

"Good luck," said Lupin. "I'm sure it will be fine."

 

"And if it's not," said my father grimly, "I'll see to Amelia Bones for you..." I rolled my eyes at him.

 

"We've all got our fingers crossed," Mrs. Weasley told us. I smiled at her, letting her know that I appreciated her support. I just wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. I followed Mr. Weasley and Harry as we headed outside into the cold, grey dawn. I breathed in the air around me, appreciating the fact that this was the first time I had been outside of the house since arriving.

 

********************************************

 

"The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day," said the woman's voice.

 

The door of the telephone box sprang open and Mr. Weasley stepped out of it, followed by Harry, whose mouth had fallen open. We were standing at one end of a very long and splendid hall with a highly polished, dark wood floor.

 

The walls on each side were paneled in shiny dark wood and had many gilded fireplaces set into them. Every few seconds a witch or wizard would emerge from one of the left-hand fireplaces with a soft whoosh; on the right-hand side, short queues of wizards were forming before each fireplace, waiting to depart.

 

Halfway down the hall was a fountain. A group of golden statues, larger than life-size, stood in the middle of a circular pool. Tallest of them all was a noble-looking wizard with his wand pointing straight up in the air. Grouped around him were a beautiful witch, a centaur, a goblin, and a house-elf. The last three were all looking adoringly up at the witch and wizard. Glittering jets of water were flying from the ends of the two wands, the point of the centaur's arrow, the tip of the goblin's hat, and each of the house-elf's ears, so that the tinkling hiss of falling water was added to the pops and cracks of Apparators and the clatter of footsteps as hundreds of witches and wizards strode toward a set of golden gates at the far end of the hall.

 

"This way," said Mr. Weasley.

 

We joined the throng, wending their way between the Ministry workers, some of whom were carrying tottering piles of parchment, others battered briefcases, still others reading the Daily Prophet as they walked. As we passed the fountain, I saw silver Sickles and bronze Knuts glinting up at me from the bottom of the pool. A small, smudged sign beside it read:

All proceeds from the Fountain of Magical Brethren will be given to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries

 

"If we are not expelled from Hogwarts, let's put in ten Galleons each," I whispered to Harry. He nodded at me.

 

"Over here, Harry, Katrina," said Mr. Weasley, and we stepped out of the stream of Ministry employees heading for the golden gates, toward a desk on the left, over which hung a sign saying security.

 

A badly shaven wizard in peacock-blue robes looked up as they approached and put down his Daily Prophet.

 

"I'm escorting two visitors," said Mr. Weasley, gesturing toward Harry and I.

 

"Step over here," said the wizard in a bored voice.

 

We walked closer to him and the wizard held up a long golden rod, thin and flexible as a car aerial, and passed it up and down our fronts and backs.

 

"Wands," grunted the security wizard.

 

I produced my wand, silently appreciating for the millionth time that if things did not go well today, that I, unlike Harry, would still be able to do all the magic I wanted.

 

The wizard dropped it onto a strange brass instrument, which looked something like a set of scales with only one dish. It began to vibrate. A narrow strip of parchment came speeding out of a slit in the base. The wizard tore this off and read the writing upon it.

 

"Thirteen inches, phoenix-feather core with a dragon heartstring and a drop of basilisk venom, been in use four years. That correct?"

 

"Yes," I said nervously.

 

"I keep this," said the wizard, impaling the slip of parchment on a small brass spike. "You get this back," he added, thrusting my wand at me and then taking Harry’s.

 

"Thank you."

 

"Hang on..." said the wizard slowly.

 

His eyes had darted from the silver visitor's badge on Harry's chest to his forehead and to my collarbone which I always kept covered up ever since Rita Skeeter had blown the lid off of my secret.

 

"Thank you, Eric," said Mr. Weasley firmly, and grasping Harry and I by the shoulders, he steered us away from the desk and back into the stream of wizards and witches walking through the golden gates.

 

Harry, Mr. Weasley, and I joined the crowd around one of them. A big, bearded wizard holding a large cardboard box stood nearby that was emitting rasping noises.

 

"All right, Arthur?" said the wizard, nodding at Mr. Weasley.

 

"What've you got there, Bob?" asked Mr. Weasley, looking at the box.

 

"We're not sure," said the wizard seriously. "We thought it was a bog-standard chicken until it started breathing fire. Looks like a seri- ous breach of the Ban on Experimental Breeding to me."

 

With a great jangling and clattering a lift descended in front of us; the golden grille slid back and the three of us moved inside it with the rest of the crowd. I found myself jammed against the back wall of the lift. I stared at my feet to avoid catching anyone's eye.

 

I listened each time the same cool female voice we had heard in the telephone box rang out again and again, rattling of each floor as we arrived.

 

"Level seven...level six, level five, level four, lever three -”

 

Everybody left the lift on this floor except a witch who was reading an extremely long piece of parchment that was trailing on the ground.

 

“- Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services."

 

"This is us," said Mr. Weasley, and we followed the witch out of the lift into a corridor lined with doors. "My office is on the other side of the floor."

 

"Mr. Weasley," said Harry, as we passed a window through which sunlight was streaming, "aren't we underground?"

 

"Yes, we are," said Mr. Weasley, "those are enchanted windows; Magical Maintenance decide what weather we're getting every day. We had two months of hurricanes last time they were angling for a pay raise...Just round here."

 

We turned a corner, walked through a pair of heavy oak doors, and emerged in a cluttered, open area divided into cubicles, which were buzzing with talk and laughter. Memos were zooming in and out of cubicles like miniature rockets. A lopsided sign on the nearest cubicle read auror headquarters.

 

Harry and I looked surreptitiously through the doorways as we passed. A scarlet-robed man with a ponytail longer than Bill's was sitting with his boots up on his desk, dictating a report to his quill. A little farther along, a witch with a patch over her eye was talking over the top of her cubicle wall to Kingsley Shacklebolt.

 

"Morning, Weasley," said Kingsley carelessly, as we drew nearer. "I've been wanting a word with you, have you got a second?"

 

"Yes, if it really is a second," said Mr. Weasley, "I'm in rather a hurry."

 

They were talking to each other as though they hardly knew each other, and when Harry opened his mouth to say hello to Kingsley, I saw Mr. Weasley stand on his foot. I myself had decided to elbow Harry in the side. How could he be so clueless! Seriously this boy was hopeless at understanding subtlety!

 

We followed Kingsley along the row and into the very last cubicle. My father’s face was blinking down at us from every direction. Newspaper cuttings and old photographs — even the one of Sirius being best man at the Potters' wedding — papered the walls. The only Sirius-free space was a map of the world in which little red pins were glowing like jewels.

 

"Here," said Kingsley brusquely to Mr. Weasley, shoving a sheaf of parchment into his hand, "I need as much information as possible on flying Muggle vehicles sighted in the last twelve months. We've received information that Black might still be using his old motorcycle."

 

Kingsley tipped Harry and I an enormous wink and added, in a whisper, "Give him the magazine, he might find it interesting." Then he said in normal tones, "And don't take too long, Weasley, the delay on that firelegs report held our investigation up for a month."

 

"If you had read my report you would know that the term is 'firearms,' " said Mr. Weasley coolly. "And I'm afraid you'll have to wait for information on motorcycles, we're extremely busy at the moment." He dropped his voice and said, "If you can get away before seven, Molly's making meatballs."

 

He beckoned to Harry and I and led us out of Kingsley's cubicle, through a second set of oak doors, and down several passages that twisted and turned until we had finally reached a dead end, where a door on the left stood ajar, revealing a broom cupboard, and a door on the right that bore a tarnished brass plaque reading misuse of muggle artifacts.

 

Mr. Weasley's dingy office seemed to be slightly smaller than the broom cupboard. Two desks had been crammed inside it and there was barely room to move around them because of all the overflowing filing cabinets lining the walls, on top of which were tottering piles of files.

 

"We haven't got a window," said Mr. Weasley apologetically, taking off his bomber jacket and placing it on the back of his chair. "We've asked, but they don't seem to think we need one. Have a seat, Katrina, doesn't look as if Perkins is in yet."

 

I squeezed myself into the chair behind Perkins's desk while Mr. Weasley rifled through the sheaf of parchment Kingsley Shacklebolt had given him - spinning circles around and around as Harry watched me in amusement.

 

"Ah," he said, grinning, as he extracted a copy of a magazine entitled, The Quibbler from its midst, "yes . . ." He flicked through it. "Yes, he's right, I'm sure Sirius will find that very amusing — oh dear, what's this now?"

 

A memo had just zoomed in through the open door and fluttered to rest on top of the hiccuping toaster. Mr. Weasley unfolded it and read aloud, "'Third regurgitating public toilet reported in Bethnal Green, kindly investigate immediately.' This is getting ridiculous. . . ."

 

"A regurgitating toilet?"

 

"Anti-Muggle pranksters," said Mr. Weasley, frowning. "We had two last week, one in Wimbledon, one in Elephant and Castle. Muggles are pulling the flush and instead of everything disappearing — well, you can imagine. The poor things keep calling in those — those pumbles, I think they're called — you know, the ones who mend pipes and things —"

"Plumbers?"

 

I rolled my eyes, wishing the circumstances at the ministry were light enough for me to conjure a butterbeer and have a sip. I was seriously thinking about making a drinking game out of the things wizards/muggles misinterpreted and patenting it to sell to the masses. But alas, the situation was much to dire for flights of fancy.

 

"— exactly, yes, but of course they're flummoxed. I only hope we can catch whoever's doing it."

 

"Will it be Aurors who catch them?"

 

"Oh no, this is too trivial for Aurors, it'll be the ordinary Magical Law Enforcement Patrol — ah, Harry, Katrina, this is Perkins."

 

A stooped, timid-looking old wizard with fluffy white hair had just entered the room, panting.

 

"Oh Arthur!" he said desperately, without looking at Harry or I. "Thank goodness, I didn't know what to do for the best, whether to wait here for you or not, I've just sent an owl to your home but you've obviously missed it — an urgent message came ten minutes ago —"

 

"I know about the regurgitating toilet," said Mr. Weasley.

 

"No, no, it's not the toilet, it's the Potter boy's and young Dumbledore’s hearing — they've changed the time and venue — it starts at eight o'clock now and it's down in old Courtroom Ten —"

 

"Down in old — but they told me — Merlin's beard —"

 

Mr. Weasley looked at his watch, let out a yelp, and leapt from his chair.

 

"Quick, Harry, Katrina, we should have been there five minutes ago!"

 

Perkins flattened himself against the filing cabinets as Mr. Weasley left the office at a run, Harry and I on his heels.

 

"Why have they changed the time?" Harry and I said breathlessly as we hurtled past the Auror cubicles; people poked out their heads and stared as we streaked past. I felt as though I had left all my insides back at Perkins's desk.

 

"I've no idea, but thank goodness we got here so early, if you'd missed it it would have been catastrophic!"

 

Mr. Weasley skidded to a halt beside the lifts and jabbed impa- tiently at the down button.

 

"Come ON!"

 

The lift clattered into view and we hurried inside. Every time it stopped Mr. Weasley cursed furiously and pummelled the number nine button.

 

"Those courtrooms haven't been used in years," said Mr. Weasley angrily. "I can't think why they're doing it down there — unless — but no . . ."

 

A plump witch carrying a smoking goblet entered the lift at that moment, and Mr. Weasley did not elaborate.

 

"The Atrium," said the cool female voice and the golden grilles slid open, showing me a distant glimpse of the golden statues in the fountain. The plump witch got out and a sallow-skinned wizard with a very mournful face got in.

 

"Morning, Arthur," he said in a sepulchral voice as the lift began to descend. "Don't often see you down here. . ."

 

"Urgent business, Bode," said Mr. Weasley, who was bouncing on the balls of his feet and throwing anxious looks over at me and Harry.

 

"Ah, yes," said Bode, surveying Harry and I unblinkingly. "Of course."

 

I barely had emotion to spare for Bode, but his unfaltering gaze that raked up and down my body hungrily did not make me feel any more comfortable. I shivered slightly as he winked at me and licked his lips. Ew.

 

"Department of Mysteries," said the cool female voice, and left it at that.

 

"Down here, down here," panted Mr. Weasley, taking two steps at a time. "The lift doesn't even come down this far . . . why they're doing it there . . ."

 

We reached the bottom of the steps and ran along yet another corridor, which bore a great resemblance to that which led to Snape's dungeon at Hogwarts, with rough stone walls and torches in brackets. The doors we passed here were heavy wooden ones with iron bolts and keyholes.

 

"Courtroom . . . ten . . . I think . . . we're nearly . . . yes."

 

Mr. Weasley stumbled to a halt outside a grimy dark door with an immense iron lock and slumped against the wall, clutching at a stitch in his chest.

 

"Go on," he panted, pointing his thumb at the door. "Get in there."

 

"Aren't — aren't you coming with — ?"

 

"No, no, I'm not allowed. Good luck!"

 

I glanced at Harry, swallowed hard, grabbed his hand, and used my other to help him turn the heavy iron door handle, and we stepped inside the courtroom.

 

********************************************

 

In-Line Comments

 

\- Sorry if this chapter was a bit bland had a bit of writer’s block for a while/life block to be honest but yeah let me know what you thought and hopefully should be getting more chapters out again soon!


	103. The Hearing

Katrina's POV

I gasped; I could not help myself. The large dungeon we had entered was horribly familiar. I had not only seen it before, I had been here before: This was the place Harry and I had visited inside Dumbledore's Pensieve, the place where I had watched the Lestranges sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban.

A cold male voice rang across the courtroom.  
"You're late."

"Sorry," said Harry and I nervously. "W-we didn't know the time had changed."

"That is not the Wizengamot's fault," said the voice. "An owl was sent to you two this morning. Take your seats."

I dropped my gaze to the two chairs in the center of the room, the arms of which were covered in chains. I had seen those chains spring to life and bind whoever sat between them.

Our footsteps echoed loudly as we walked across the stone floor. When I sat gingerly on the edge of the chair the chains clinked rather threateningly but did not bind me. Feeling rather sick I looked up at the people seated at the bench above.

There were about fifty of them, all, as far as I could see, wearing plum-colored robes with an elaborately worked silver W on the lefthand side of the chest and all staring down their noses at Harry and I, some with very austere expressions, others looks of frank curiosity.

In the very middle of the front row sat Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic. A broad, square-jawed witch with very short gray hair sat on Fudge's left; she wore a monocle and looked forbidding. On Fudge's right was another witch, but she was sitting so far back on the bench that her face was in shadow.

"Very well," said Fudge. "The accused being present — finally — let us begin. Are you ready?" he called down the row.

"Yes, sir," said an eager voice I knew. Ron's brother Percy was sitting at the very end of the front bench. I looked at Percy, expecting some sign of recognition from him, but none came. Percy's eyes, behind his horn-rimmed glasses, were fixed on his parchment, a quill poised in his hand.

"Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August," said Fudge in a ringing voice, and Percy began taking notes at once, "into offenses committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, along with Katrina Dumbledore; who also stands accused of violating the rules set forth by the Animagus Registry Act of 1850 - current residence; unavailable. 

"Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley —"

"— Witness for the defense, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," said a quiet voice from behind me. I turned my head so fast I cricked my neck.

My grandfather was striding serenely across the room wearing long midnight-blue robes and a perfectly calm expression. His long silver beard and hair gleamed in the torchlight as he drew level with Harry and I and looked up at Fudge through the half-moon spectacles that rested halfway down his very crooked nose.

The members of the Wizengamot were muttering. All eyes were now on Dumbledore. Some looked annoyed, others slightly frightened; two elderly witches in the back row, however, raised their hands and waved in welcome.

A powerful emotion had risen in my chest at the sight of Dumbledore, a fortified, hopeful feeling rather like that which phoenix song gave me - but also raging anger at the lies he had been keeping from me. I wanted to catch my grandfather’s eye, but Dumbledore was not looking my way; he was continuing to look up at the obviously flustered Fudge.

"Ah," said Fudge, who looked thoroughly disconcerted. "Dumbledore. Yes. You — er — got our — er — message that the time and — er — place of the hearing had been changed, then?"

"I must have missed it," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "However, due to a lucky mistake I arrived at the Ministry three hours early, so no harm done."

"Yes — well — I suppose we'll need another chair — I — Weasley, could you — ?"

"Not to worry, not to worry," said Dumbledore pleasantly; he took out his wand, gave it a little flick, and a squashy chintz armchair appeared out of nowhere in between Harry and I. My grandfather sat down, put the tips of his long fingers together, and looked at Fudge over them with an expression of polite interest. The Wizengamot was still muttering and fidgeting restlessly; only when Fudge spoke again did they settle down.

"Yes," said Fudge again, shuffling his notes. "Well, then. So. The charges. Yes."

He extricated a piece of parchment from the pile before him, took a deep breath, and read, "The charges against the accused are as follows: That they did knowingly, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of their actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on August the second at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offense under paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under section thirteen of the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy. Furthermore, the accused knowingly hid the fact that she was an animagus from the Ministry of Magic in strict violation of the Animagus Registry Act of 1850 which she was well aware of having learned about it in her third year of schooling at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"You are Harry James Potter, of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?" Fudge said, glaring at Harry over the top of his parchment.

"Yes," Harry said.

"You received an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not?"

"Yes, but —"

“And you are Katrina Dumbledore?”

“Yes,” I said nervously.

“And did you not receive the standard letter every student at Hogwarts attains at the end of the year warning them that under no circumstance are they to use magic over the summer until they become of age? Furthermore, did you or did you not write a 2-scroll long essay on the Animagus Registry Act of 1850 for a Transfiguration class in your third year of schooling?”

“Yes, and yes, but -” I tried to say, but I was cut off.

"And yet you both conjured your Patronus on the night of the second of August?" said Fudge.

"Yes," said Harry and I, "but —"

"Knowing that you are not permitted to use magic outside school while you are under the age of seventeen?"

"Yes, but —"

"Knowing that you were in an area full of Muggles?"

"Yes, but —"

"Fully aware that you were in close proximity to a Muggle at the time?

"Yes," I said angrily, getting ticked off at constantly being interrupted, "but we only used it because we were —"

The witch with the monocle on Fudge's left cut across him in a booming voice.

"You two produced a fully fledged Patronus?" 

"Yes," we said, "because —"

"A corporeal Patronus?"

"A — what?" said Harry.

“Yes,” I confirmed for him, since my poor friend has never once cracked open a dictionary like Hermione and I have.

"Your Patronus had a clearly defined form? I mean to say, it was more than vapor or smoke?" The witch clarified for Harry’s sake.

"Yes," he stated, “it's a stag, it's always a stag and Katrina’s occasionally changes - it was a lioness the first time.”

"Always? First time?” boomed Madam Bones. 

"You have both produced a Patronus before now?"

"Yes," said Harry, "We’ve been doing it for over a year —" 

“And you are fifteen years old?"

"Yes, and —"

"You learned this at school?"

"Yes, Professor Lupin taught us in our third year, because of the —"

"Impressive," said Madam Bones, staring down at us, "a true Patronus at that age...very impressive indeed." I would have huffed in irritation of her interrupting us like Fudge but at her last words, I felt a sense of pride surge through me.

"It's not a question of how impressive the magic was," said Fudge in a testy voice. "In fact, the more impressive the worse it is, I would have thought, given that the boy and girl did it in plain view of a Muggle!"

Those who had been frowning now murmured in agreement, but it was the sight of Percy's sanctimonious little nod that goaded Harry and I into speech.

"We did it because of the dementors!" we said loudly, before anyone could interrupt us again.

I had expected more muttering, but the silence that fell seemed to be somehow denser than before.

"Dementors?" said Madam Bones after a moment, raising her thick eyebrows so that her monocle looked in danger of falling out. "What do you mean?”

"I mean there were three or four dementors down that alleyway and they went for me, Katrina, and my cousin!"

"Ah," said Fudge again, smirking unpleasantly as he looked around at the Wizengamot, as though inviting them to share the joke. "Yes. Yes, I thought we'd be hearing something like this."

"Dementors in Little Whinging?" Madam Bones said in tones of great surprise. "I don't understand —"

I growled angrily at Fudge as he proceeded to accuse Harry and I of making the whole thing up to provide a good cover story. Harry trued to tell him that we weren’t lying but I could tell it was hopeless.

"Enough, enough!" said Fudge with a very supercilious look on his face. "I'm sorry to interrupt what I'm sure would have been a very well-rehearsed story —"

My grandfather cleared his throat. The Wizengamot fell silent again.

"We do, in fact, have a witness to the presence of dementors in that alleyway," he said, "other than Dudley Dursley, I mean."

Fudge's plump face seemed to slacken, as though somebody had let air out of it. I couldn’t help but grin in satisfaction at the expression on his face as he stared down at Dumbledore for a moment or two, then, with the appearance of a man pulling himself back together, said, "We haven't got time to listen to more taradiddles, I'm afraid, Dumbledore. I want this dealt with quickly —"

"I may be wrong," said Dumbledore pleasantly, "but I am sure that under the Wizengamot Charter of Rights, the accused has the right to present witnesses for his or her case? Isn't that the policy of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Madam Bones?" he continued, addressing the witch in the monocle.

"True," said Madam Bones. "Perfectly true."

"Oh, very well, very well," snapped Fudge.   
"Where is this person?" 

"I brought her with me," said Dumbledore. "She's just outside the door. Should I — ?"

"No — Weasley, you go," Fudge barked at Percy, who got up at once, hurried down the stone steps from the judge's balcony, and hastened past Dumbledore, Harry, and I without glancing at us.

I did my best to pay attention as Mrs. Figg was brought in and allowed to tell her story before being questioned. Proving that Squibs indeed could see dementors - giving an almost perfect description of them.

Madam Bones looked down at Mrs. Figg in silence; Fudge was not looking at her at all, but fidgeting with his papers. Finally he raised his eyes and said, rather aggressively "That's what you saw, is it?"

"That was what happened," Mrs. Figg repeated.

"Very well," said Fudge. "You may go."

Mrs. Figg cast a frightened look from Fudge to Dumbledore, then got up and shuffled off toward the door again. I heard it thud shut behind her.

"Not a very convincing witness," said Fudge loftily.

"Oh, I don't know," said Madam Bones in her booming voice. "She certainly described the effects of a dementor attack very accurately. And I can't imagine why she would say they were there if they weren't —"

"But dementors wandering into a Muggle suburb and just happening to come across a witch and wizard? A witch who was in her unregistered animagus form at the time might I add!” snorted Fudge. "The odds on that must be very, very long, even Bagman wouldn't have bet —"

"Oh, I don't think any of us believe the dementors were there by coincidence," said my grandfather lightly.

The witch sitting to the right of Fudge with her face in shadow moved slightly, but everyone else was quite still and silent.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" asked Fudge icily.

"It means that I think they were ordered there," said Dumbledore. 

"I think we might have a record of it if someone had ordered dementors to go strolling through Little Whinging!" barked Fudge. 

"Not if the dementors are taking orders from someone other than the Ministry of Magic these days," said Dumbledore calmly. "I have  
already given you my views on this matter, Cornelius."

"Yes, you have," said Fudge forcefully, "and I have no reason to believe that your views are anything other than bilge, Dumbledore. The dementors remain in place in Azkaban and are doing everything we ask them to."

"Then," said Dumbledore, quietly but clearly, "we must ask ourselves why somebody within the Ministry ordered a pair of dementors into that alleyway on the second of August."

In the complete silence that greeted these words, the witch to the right of Fudge leaned forward so that I saw her for the first time. I thought she looked just like a large, pale toad. Her eyes were large, round, and slightly bulging. Even the little black velvet bow perched on top of her short curly hair put me in mind of a large fly she was about to catch on a long sticky tongue.

"The Chair recognizes Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister," said Fudge.

The witch spoke in a fluttery, girlish, high-pitched voice that took me aback; I had been expecting a croak.

"I'm sure I must have misunderstood you, Professor Dumbledore," she said with a simper that left her big, round eyes as cold as ever. "So silly of me. But it sounded for a teensy moment as though you were suggesting that the Ministry of Magic had ordered an attack on this boy!"

She gave a silvery laugh that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. A few other members of the Wizengamot laughed with her. It could not have been plainer that not one of them were really amused.

"If it is true that the dementors are taking orders only from the Ministry of Magic, and it is also true that dementors attacked Harry, Katrina and Harry’s cousin a week ago, then it follows logically that somebody at the Ministry might have ordered the attacks," said Dumbledore politely. "Of course, these particular dementors may have been outside Ministry control —"

"There are no dementors outside Ministry control!" snapped Fudge, who had turned brick red.

Grandfather inclined his head in a little bow.  
"Then undoubtedly the Ministry will be making a full inquiry into why dementors were so very far from Azkaban and why they attacked without authorization."

"It is not for you to decide what the Ministry of Magic does or does not do, Dumbledore!" snapped Fudge, now a shade of magenta of which Harry’s Uncle Vernon would have been proud.

"Of course it isn't," said Dumbledore mildly. "I was merely expressing my confidence that this matter will not go uninvestigated." He glanced at Madam Bones, who readjusted her monocle and stared back at him, frowning slightly.

"I would remind everybody that the behavior of these dementors, if indeed they are not figments of this boy’s and girl’s imagination, are not the subject of this hearing!" said Fudge. "We are here to examine Harry Potter's and Katrina Dumbledore’s offenses under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the Animagus Registry Act!”

"Of course we are," said Dumbledore, "but the presence of dementors in that alleyway is highly relevant. Clause seven of the Decree states that magic may be used before Muggles in exceptional circumstances, and as those exceptional circumstances include situations that threaten the life of the wizard or witch himself, or witches, wizards, or Muggles present at the time of the —"

"We are familiar with clause seven, thank you very much!" snarled Fudge.

"Of course you are," said Dumbledore courteously. "Then we are in agreement that Harry and Katrina’s use of the Patronus Charm in these circumstances falls precisely into the category of exceptional circumstances it describes?”

"If there were dementors, which I doubt —"

"You have heard from an eyewitness," Dumbledore interrupted. "If you still doubt her truthfulness, call her back, question her again. I am sure she would not object. Furthermore, Katrina is not an Animagus. She is an Animorphmagus as I tried to explain on the night in question. The Animagus Registry Act does not mention anywhere the need for an Animorphmagus to register any of their forms as that would take up quite a few scrolls. If you doubt that she is indeed an Animorphmagus; I’m sure she would be more than happy to demonstrate a few of her favorite forms.”

I grinned at my grandfather and decided to help him out with a little demonstration. I quickly morphed into my wolf form from over the summer and then back into my human form at which point I turned my hair every color of the rainbow before morphing into a lioness and giving the largest and mightiest roar of pride I could in Fudge’s direction before sitting back down on my chair with a look of smug confidence on my face as the room burst into whispers.

I managed to catch a few murmurs of shock and disbelief, and a few claims that an Animorphmagus hadn’t been seen in several years and were thought to have died out. But I just kept smiling, knowing that no one could deny what they had all just seen with their very own eyes. 

"I — that — not —" blustered Fudge, fiddling with the papers before him. "It's — I want this over with today, Dumbledore!"

"But naturally, you would not care how many times you heard from a witness, if the alternative was a serious miscarriage of justice," said Dumbledore.

"Serious miscarriage, my hat!" said Fudge at the top of his voice. "Have you ever bothered to tot up the number of cock-and-bull stories this boy and girl have come out with, Dumbledore, while trying to cover up their flagrant misuse of magic out of school? I suppose you've forgotten the Hover Charm the boy used three years ago —"

"That wasn't me, it was a house-elf!" said Harry.

"YOU SEE?" roared Fudge, gesturing flamboyantly in Harry's direction. "A house-elf! In a Muggle house! I ask you —"

"The house-elf in question is currently in the employ of Hogwarts School," said Dumbledore. "I can summon him here in an instant to give evidence if you wish."

I watched and listened as Fudge continued to rant on and on about every minor infraction Harry had ever made; noticing how his eyes would flicker to me on occasion and narrow at me as I sat in my lioness form with my tail swishing back and forth; my teeth gleaming pearly white at him every time he glanced my way, only to refocus on Harry whenever he caught a glimpse of my grandfather.

I had a sneaking suspicion that though he was trying to get me in trouble for being an "unregistered animagus", he knew better than to tick Dumbledore off any further by directly targeting me - his last remaining relative as far as I was aware. We had never really discussed it...and it had become clear to everyone that I was not an Animagus and therefore not subject to the guidelines laid out by the Animagus Registry Act of 1850; so thankfully I think that matter had been discarded at this point.

"The Ministry does not have the power to expel Hogwarts students, Cornelius, as I reminded you on the night of the second of August," said Dumbledore. "Nor does it have the right to confiscate wands until charges have been successfully proven, again, as I reminded you on the night of the second of August. In your admirable haste to ensure that the law is upheld, you appear, inadvertently I am sure, to have overlooked a few laws yourself."

"Laws can be changed," said Fudge savagely.

"Of course they can," said Dumbledore, inclining his head. "And you certainly seem to be making many changes, Cornelius. Why, in the few short weeks since I was asked to leave the Wizengamot, it has already become the practice to hold a full criminal trial to deal with a simple matter of underage magic!"

A few of the wizards above us shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Fudge turned a slightly deeper shade of puce. The toadlike witch on his right, however, merely gazed at my grandfather, her face quite expressionless.

"As far as I am aware, however," Dumbledore continued, "there is no law yet in place that says this court's job is to punish Harry or Katrina for every bit of magic they have ever performed. They have been charged with specific offenses and they have presented their defense. All they and I can do now is to await your verdict."

Grandfather put his fingertips together again and said no more. Fudge glared at him, evidently incensed. I glanced sideways at grandfather, seeking reassurance; I was not at all sure that Dumbledore was right in telling the Wizengamot, in effect, that it was about time they made a decision. Again, however, Dumbledore seemed oblivious to my attempt to catch his eye. He continued to look up at the benches where the entire Wizengamot had fallen into urgent, whispered conversations.

I looked at my golden paws. My heart, which seemed to have swollen to an unnatural size, was thumping loudly under my ribs and my tail was flipping back and forth with worry. I had expected the hearing to last longer than this. I was not at all sure that we had made a good impression. Neither of us had really said very much. We ought to have explained more fully about the dementors, about how we had nearly been kissed...

Then the whispering stopped. I wanted to look up at the judges, but found that it was really much, much easier to keep examining my claws.

"Those in favor of clearing the accused of all charges?" said Madam Bones's booming voice.  
My head jerked upward. There were hands in the air, many of them...more than half! Breathing very fast, I tried to count, but before I could finish Madam Bones had said, "And those in favor of conviction?"

Fudge raised his hand; so did half a dozen others, including the witch on his right and the heavily mustached wizard and the frizzy-haired witch in the second row.

Fudge glanced around at them all, looking as though there was something large stuck in his throat, then lowered his own hand. He took two deep breaths and then said, in a voice distorted by suppressed rage, "Very well, very well...cleared of all charges."

"Excellent," said Grandfather briskly, springing to his feet, pulling out his wand, and causing the two chintz armchairs to vanish. 

"Well, I must be getting along. Good day to you all."

And without looking once at Harry or I, he swept from the dungeon.

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In-Line Comments

\- Let me know what you thought about the Animagus Registry Act of 1850 kinda just pulled that out of nowhere bc I wanted to sound somewhat official and all lol


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